


Ohana

by debwalsh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Lilo & Stitch (2002), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bucky Barnes needs to get his act together, Crossover, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Golden Retriever Steve Rogers, M/M, Matchmaking, Nick Fury is done with your shit, Pining, Potty Mouthed Bucky Barnes, Stitch is a Wise Experiment, The Force of Nature that is Lilo Pelekai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:42:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nick Fury sends the team of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes - Captain America and the Winter Soldier - on a mission to Hawaii, no one is expecting the unlikely partnership of the ex-Fist of Hydra and ... Experiment 626?   Or a little matchmaker named Lilo.</p><p>28Mar18 - Chapter 11, One True Ohana, is posted!<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book Your Travel Early

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theKASKproject](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theKASKproject/gifts).



> No, I don't need another WIP, but during a Tumblr conversation with [TheKASKProject-Art](http://thekaskproject-art.tumblr.com/), the idea for this story was born. It just sort of grew out of a mutual admiration society conversation - TheKaskProject's art gives me life, I give encouragement and nonsense. Then there was a Stitch gif. Then we started talking about Nick Fury and Cobra Bubbles. And then there was talk of 10,000 words of Steve/Bucky and Lilo and Stitch and then ... this happened.

“Hawaii.”

“Gotta problem with that, Barnes?”

“Who can have a problem with Hawaii?  Unless you’re sendin’ us to the top of a fuckin’ volcano and you expect Spangle Drawers over there to take a flyin’ leap into the lava.”

“Buck,” the Spangle-Drawered one admonished with a fond arch of his eyebrow.

“No volcanoes, no lava.  Got a situation.  Needs a delicate touch.”

Bucky snorted.  “And yer sendin’ _us_?  _Him_?”

“Buck!” Spangles cried, scandalized.

Fury lifted his one good eyebrow and stared balefully at Bucky.  At least, Bucky thought it was baleful – it was hard to tell with only one eye to go by.  “Think you’re funny, Barnes?”

“Funnier than _him_ ,” he hooked a thumb toward the frowning face of tall, blond, and spangled.

“Buck,” he who was spangled growled, crossing tree-trunk sized arms across his America-the-Beautiful chest.

“See what I mean?”

“Buck …” the one previously known as Star Spangled Man with a Plan warned in his “Captain America is disappointed in you”TM voice, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip stuck out like he was gonna break out the pouts any second now.  Bucky resolutely ignored the twitch he felt in his shorts right about then.  It was something he was sadly accustomed to now after years back living with Blond, Buff, and Blind over there.

“Yeah, keep thinkin’ that, Barnes.  Wouldn’t book your comedy tour just yet.  But here are your tickets for Honolulu.  Plan at least two weeks.  You’ll do a puddle jumper to the big island, see where the mission leads you.  You’ll have a SHIELD agent who’ll help you arrange transport if you need to move around the islands.  He’s my eyes and ears on the ground, so don’t fuck this up.  Wheels up oh-eight-thirty.  Think you can get your leather-clad ass in gear enough to meet that plane?  And his star-spangled butt?” Fury hooked a thumb toward where the object of Bucky’s every secret wet dream did not glance surreptitiously toward his own ass.

“Yeah, what the fuck,” Bucky capitulated, snatching the tickets from Fury’s hand.  Hey, not bad – first class on a non-stop on a brand-name airline.  Could be a whole helluva lot worse.  Could be a cargo flight dropping off supplies at every Podunk SHIELD base in the heartland.  But there were some details missing.  “Hotel?  Car?  Per diem?”

“See Hill on your way out.  She’s got everything else you’ll need.  Your liaison will take care of anything you need outside of that.  You’re on expense – don’t buy the whole fuckin’ state, Barnes.  This isn’t a Stark expedition.  Now go.”

“Um, Nick?” Starry and Spangled asked, literally raising his hand for attention.

Bucky would sneer at the sheer cheesiness of it, if he weren’t so focused on keeping the aforementioned twitching under control and under the radar.

Again with the possibly baleful eyebrow!  Fury leaned back in his chair, and prompted, “Yes, Captain?”

“Mission brief?”

“Hill’ll upload it to your tablets so you can review en route.  Now if you gentlemen – and I use that term beyond loosely – will excuse me, I’ve got an agency to run.”

With patriotic eagerness, his Spangleness practically tripped over his own feet on his way out the door to get the goods from Hill.  As Bucky followed at a more sedate pace – due to see above – Nick called out to him.

“And Barnes?  Next time, leave the friggin’ squirrel out of your goddamn pants.  Or take care of it _before_ you come into my office.  Goddamn it, son, there are some things a man can’t unsee, even if he’s got only one good eye.” 

Technically, Bucky should feel embarrassed, but honestly, he really didn’t have any fucks to give in this situation.  Instead, he grinned ferally at Fury and asked, “Have you seen him, sir?”

Fury snorted.  Heterosexual or not, anyone who saw Steve “Captain America is done with your shit” Rogers had to admit the boy was a walking fantasy.  “Have you told him how you feel, Barnes?”

Well, that was just playing dirty.  “Um, no.”

“Yeah, might wanna think about doin’ somethin’ about that.  You’ll have at least ten hours in the air on the first leg to contemplate his navel, or any other goddamn body part that does it for you, Barnes.  I’m sick of your pinin’ white ass draggin’ around my agency.  Get it together, man – you’re supposed to be a world class assassin, for fuck’s sake.  Friggin’ stop acting like a lovestruck tween and go get your man.”

Oh shit.  Even Fury shipped them.

Yeah, Buck was gonna have to figure this out.  Or maybe that lava spewing volcano was looking better by the moment.  If you’re gonna go, go spectacularly.  And it would be a change from trains, snow, and Hydra.  He wondered if SHIELD had the technology to activate a dormant volcano as he nodded and backed out of Fury’s office, practically tripping over the primary donor to his spank bank on his way out the door.

“Got the intel and the rest of our arrangements, Buck.  Let’s go get packed.  I’ve never been to Hawaii – I wonder if we’ll have time to visit the Pearl Harbor Memorial …”

Maria Hill let her eyes rid up from Bucky’s kneecaps to his face and back down again, letting a sly, knowing grin bloom on her face.  “Have fun, fellas.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.  Or if you do, make sure you eliminate all witnesses and erase all evidence,” she called as she pivoted smartly on her heel and strode back into her office.  A last glance over her shoulder at Bucky told him he’d been made by Fury’s second in command, too.  And as agents glanced up from their desks as they exited the floor, Bucky had to wonder if there wasn’t an office pool going on the pair of them hooking up.

As if.

And he wished.

Didn’t anyone know that Captain “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn” America was straighter than a straight edge?

“I think I’d better get some swim trunks – whaddya think, Buck?  Maybe we can learn to surf in between whatever it is we’re gonna be doing …”

Resisting the urge to facepalm into his metal hand – which nearly always gave him a concussion because he wasn’t fucking paying enough attention slamming a registered weapon into his forehead – Bucky just shook his head and followed that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight.  And whose ass looked great in spandex.

Steve, in board shorts?  Naked chest covered in droplets of seawater, hanging ten on a board catchin’ the waves?

Yeah, Bucky was so screwed.  

&&&


	2. Place Your Belongings in the Overhead Compartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which preparations are made, brains are broken, and introductions happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm really thrilled with the reception this story as gotten so far! I have so many images in my head, and I've already got some later scenes written. I know what's going to happen (I think - Bucky always rewrites my stories for me), so we'll keep chipping away at this. Stick with me!

So the rest of the day was taken up by a whirlwind tour of stores for the appropriate apparel for a two week stay in paradise.

It was Hell.

Board shorts.

Tank tops.

Hawaiian shirts.

Flip flops.

Scuba gear.

_Speedos._

God-fucking-damn Speedos. On _that_ physique. Bucky thought his dick was gonna break from all the skin on display. Not that he and Steve hadn’t seen each other naked on occasion – they’d grown up together, and they lived together like the ridiculous old bachelors they were, so it was inevitable to catch a bit of skin every so often. But this … this was torture.

“Whadya think, Buck? Is this a good color on me?

“Hey, pal, you’re gonna have to put sunscreen on me when we get out there. I may heal fast, but I still got Irish skin, and I don’t wanna burn.”

“Think I should try on a thong?”

At the mention of a thong, Bucky’s brain literally broke.

Split in two, dribbled out his nose and ears.

He was officially incapacitated, unable to go on, factory reset, no one’s home.

A thong. It was bad enough the Speedos left nothing to the imagination – and yeah, he was definitely filing dimensions and lengths away in his spank bank, thank you Abraham Erskine for your gift to fucking mankind. It was bad enough that when he turned around in front of the mirror, Buck had a continuous view of the swells of his delectable ass cheeks, the dimples just above his pelvis, the indentation of his crack, the …

Yeah. Brain broken. Again.

But a _thong_?

And then when he started fingering those little dick holsters or whatever the hell they were called, Bucky had no choice but to pull out the big guns.

“Natasha is gonna want pictures.”

Well, that put that whole line of inquiry to bed _tout suite_. Because the idea of the infamous Black Widow having incriminating photos of Steve “Everyone Thinks I’m A Virgin” Rogers (and Bucky still hadn’t got a straight answer outta him about his time with the USO, but he had his suspicions) was enough to make Steve’s dick crawl back up his sack and into his abdominal cavity.

The Black Widow knew how to use social media to humiliate a fella, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.

So the thong was right out.

Dick holsters, nixed.

But the fucking Speedos made the cut.

Bucky was going to have to get a portable cold shower to drag around with him on this trip. Or maybe he could blackmail Stark into making a portable cryo unit for his dick. That would stop the twitching and ill-timed boners. Or maybe it would just fall off from the cold. No, scotch that idea. Back to the drawing board. 

A playlist. A depressing, distracting playlist he could plug in his ears whenever Steve got too … well, Steve.

Yeah, that’d work. 

Bucky glanced over to where Steve stood contemplating the holster things again, and he shook his head. 

Still. So. Screwed.

&&&

Years of living in a shoebox, then several years on the move with the Howling Commandos, and Steve still had the ability to pack quickly, efficiently, and with minimal space. It totally made up for the fact that in every other facet of his domestic life, he was a fucking slob.

Bucky could not remember the last time Steve washed a dish. Or picked up his underwear where it landed in the approximate area of the hamper. Or cleared the coffee table of his drawing shit. If Bucky didn’t declare the dining room table off limits to Steve “But I’m a Sensitive Artist” Rogers, they wouldn’t have _any_ place to eat. So Bucky accepted his role of “wife,” picking up Steve’s underwear and stinky socks, and shoving everything in the washing machine with his stuff. So what if occasionally he let a red t-shirt in with Steve’s tighty whities? A little pink never hurt anyone.

And he did the dishes almost obsessively just so he’d have a plate and a set of utensils. Since Steve never washed anything, he also never reused anything, and got a new plate and silverware every time he ate. And he ate a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

And that was another thing. Would it hurt him to go to the grocery story once in a while? No, if Bucky didn’t take care of keeping the larder full, Mr. “I Run Four Times Hotter Than a Normal Human Being” would starve to death. Or he’d be doing a helluva lot more take-out, anyway.

Fortunately for him, Bucky learned how to navigate the FreshDirect app ages ago, and they both had a steady supply of decent food and drink delivered on a regular basis. 

Oh shit.

He really _was_ Steve’s wife. Without the fringe benefits. And that just wasn’t fucking fair.

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah, pal?”

“Look, I really do wanna visit the memorial.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m takin’ my uniform.”

“What, the suit?”

“No. My _uniform_.”

Oh. His _Army_ uniform. Of course. Sign of respect to fallen comrades. The attack on Pearl Harbor wasn’t something in the history books to either of them. They’d lived through those days in early December 1941, waiting for Roosevelt to declare war on the Japanese for their brutal attack on the Hawaiian port. Bucky remembered living in fear of receiving his draft notice, but even more that some bone-headed recruiter would take Steve.

Well, look where that got them.

“Okay. So I’m guessin’ you’re expecting me to get all dolled up, too, huh, punk?”

“Uh, yeah, jerk. It’s a sign of –“

“Respect, I know. Yeah, it’s in the back of the closet. Grab it and throw it in with yours, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve replied, looking far happier now that Bucky had acquiesced with his plan. He dove back into their room – because of course they still shared a bedroom with a very, very large bed at over 100 years old, like the platonic soulmates they were – and Bucky could hear the sounds of hangers being shoved around until Steve muttered, “Found it!”

So they were gonna do the memorial decked out in their formal finest. He could think of a couple of Cabinet Secretaries who’d be blowing a few gaskets when they found out Captain America and the Winter Soldier paid their respects without a brass band, a fuckton of cameras and social media gurus on hand to exploit it for all it was worth. Such a missed photo op.

Well, Defense and Interior weren’t on Bucky’s speed dial, so fuck it.

“Hey Buck? What’s for dinner?” Steve called.

How that idiot survived without him that first coupla years, Bucky would never know.

&&&

They managed to dodge Stark and ubered their way to the airport, arriving well ahead of time for check-in and pointless loitering at the airport. So while Steve signed autographs and posed for pictures with kids, adults, and airport and airline staff, Bucky pulled up the mission brief on his tablet so he could familiarize himself with the play. Every so often, he’d glance up and smile fondly as Steve “Actual Human Golden Retriever” Rogers let himself be dragged around, photographed, photobombed, kissed (on the cheek – if anybody tried anything, they were meeting the ex-Fist of Hydra’s fist), smeared with candy, jello, applesauce, and stuff he didn’t want to think about too long.

The op was an odd one. Some kind of sightings across the islands of Hawaii, some suspected … alien activity? Well, what the hell were they gonna do about that? Steve may have fought the Chitauri, Loki, and they both knew Thor. And Sif, but that drunken weekend was something Bucky had no plans to bring up to anyone, and Sif, bless her, wasn’t big on feelings, or words, so he was pretty sure there wasn’t gonna be an encore anytime soon. What? A guy’s gotta let off a little steam now and again, and he still remembered how to do it – and still enjoyed it, too – with a dame, even if his interest lately skewed to the Steve. And Sif had been interested in human mating rituals, so it was a mutually satisfactory arrangement. A one time thing.

Anyway. As he’d been thinking to himself before he rudely interrupted himself with that trainwreck of thought, it looked like Fury had them running a containment op, a mop-up on some kind of jailbreak?

He shook his head. Seriously, this was better suited to Stark. No doubt he could come up with some spiffy piece of tech that would just suck all the escapees into a vortex or something, and lock ‘em up all nice and neat. Instead, it looked like he and Steve were gonna be running around the jungle with little cap guns. Getting sweaty. Maybe topless. In Speedos. In Paradise.

Oh shit. There was that twitch again. Bucky glanced over to where Steve was sitting indian style on the floor, a bunch of kids gathered around him while he read from a picture book, and he smiled. It didn’t make the boner go away, but it did make it feel not so bad. The sunlight slanted in through the big plate glass windows, and it touched off fire and gold in Steve’s hair. His eyes were bluer than the clear sky outside, and his cheeks were pink with pleasure. He looked happy, surrounded by kids that way. He’d always wanted kids.

“Your partner would make a great Dad,” a voice suddenly said to him, and Bucky had this horrible sense of déjà vu, like he was back in Hydra clutches and there were voices in his head.

Only the voice wasn’t in his head, it was sitting next to him. And it wasn’t Hydra but a young woman with a ridiculously large coffee, no doubt with a ridiculously long list of frou-frou ingredients – Bucky took his pure and black, thank you very much. She smiled at him over her large glasses. “Couldn’t help notice.”

“Notice what?”

“You’re together, right? I mean, the way you look at him – the way he looks at you when you’re not looking – I just thought –“

“Lady, you _do_ know who that is, right?”

“No, I, uh – oh. _Oh_ , then you must be – _oh_! Oh, I’m sorry. You just look so _good_ together. I didn’t realize. I just thought – oh my God, why is there not a hole opening up to swallow me?”

“Relax, kid. Must be a 1940s thing. We’re brothers. We’re not … y’know. He’s not, I’m, ah, yeah. Not. We’re not.”

“No, of course not. Look, I’m just gonna go, okay? Let you get back to your work. Sorry. And thanks. For your service, I mean. Thanks. Um, bye!”

With that, she stumbled away, swearing softly at herself and shaking her head.

Well, that was just peachy.

Random women in airports shipped them, too.

There was definitely a running theme going here.

So screwed. So very, really screwed.

&&&

The flight was surprisingly smooth, and Bucky fell asleep early on, catching some much needed Zzzs en route to the big island. He felt the familiar warmth of Steve “I’m a Blast Furnace” Rogers next to him, felt the comforting presence of his oldest friend on his three, heard the reassuring regularity of his breathing, and it was so easy to slip into a restful doze.

He slept through the food service, but the steward brought him his meal when he did wake. Not surprisingly, he brought a second meal for Steve, who tucked in like he hadn’t eaten in a week. 

Seriously, the boy just couldn’t get enough.

It wasn’t long before they were on approach, and the captain announced the need to return all seats and tray tables to their upright and locked positions. Then they were landing. Without discussing it, Steve and Bucky were up and out as soon as they got the green light, surging ahead of the crowd so they wouldn’t get crushed in it. When they arrived at the baggage claim carousel, they found an older black man standing there, holding a placard that simply said, “Rogers Barnes.” He was broad shouldered and solid, dressed in a severe black suit with a pristine white shirt, a black tie, sunglasses, and a gold ring in his left ear. He was a pretty massive mountain of a man, although put him next to Steve and he didn’t look so big. He talked out the side of his mouth when he greeted them, and glanced down dubiously at the hand Steve “I’m Friendly and I Don’t Bite” Rogers thrust out at him.

“If it’s all the same to you, gents, I don’t shake hands.”

Steve pulled his hand back, but his smile didn’t fade. “Fury send you?”

“Hmmm. Fury send _you_?”

“Hmmm,” Bucky mimicked. “You our local support?”

“Cobra Bubbles. Child Welfare Services. At your service, sir.”

“Child Welfare Services. How’d you get stuck with this?”

“Cousin.”

“Come again?”

“Cousin. Nick Fury’s my cousin. And I’m the one who requested your assistance.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You knew that had to be the case, right? Two amazing badasses just had to be related. Cobra Bubbles is such a cool character - I think Samuel L. Jackson's Nick Fury has to have been based on Cobra!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Buckle Up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get closer to finding out what the mission is. In the meantime, the Pelekai Ohana prepares to greet their heroes. And Bucky's in for a big surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, I have never been to Hawaii, so I'm relying heavily on internet searches and YouTube vidoes here. And thank goodness for the [Lilo and Stitch Wiki](http://liloandstitch.wikia.com/wiki/Lilo_and_Stitch_Wiki) and [Go Hawaii](http://www.gohawaii.com) web sites. Oh, and poor me, I have an excuse to rewatch the Lilo and Stitch movies and TV series.
> 
> Someone asked about timing of the story. It's an indeterminate time, sometime in the future of the MCU, where Ultron and Civil War haven't happened. In terms of Lilo and Stitch, I'm kind of leaning toward after the end of _Leroy and Stitch_ , but I haven't decided yet.

“You requested our services. Us, specifically,” Bucky asked, flicking his thumb back and fore to encompass him and Steve.

“Strictly speaking, I requested _you_ , Sergeant Barnes.”

“Me? Not Steve?”

“Nicky said if I took one, I had to take the other, too. Something about minimizing damage and containing the destructive zone.”

Bucky glanced over to where Steve “I didn’t know it would blow up” Rogers shrugged his shoulders. ‘Yeah, you ain’t wrong,” Bucky said glibly. “But what could you need me for?”

“I think it’s better if we wait until we’re in a less populated area, gentleman. If you’ll collect your bags, my vehicle is outside.”

By now, the bags are starting to come down the chute onto the belt. They’d grabbed their carryons on the way off the plane, but to be ready for two weeks in an unfamiliar environment, they had to plan for every eventuality. So, extra luggage. 

Bucky watched Cobra’s expression, side-eying him as the luggage made its glacial way out from the plane. In profile, Cobra had a fleshy face, and he chewed on a toothpick hanging out the left side of his mouth. The dark glasses had wide arms, completely encasing his eyes, and shielding them from a side view. So Bucky had no idea what he thought of anything, no clue as to what he was feeling. He hadn’t even twitched since they’d turned to the belt and started watching the luggage rotate in an endless cycle of going nowhere.

By now, the luggage area was filling up with passengers who’d deplaned behind them, who’d moved at a normal human speed, not the quick clip that Steve “I’m gonna run like the wind!” Rogers always seemed to move. Granted, running was something little Stevie Rogers couldn’t do, or he’d be a heaving, gasping mess on the ground, his dodgy lungs packed up with fluids and his hauntingly blue eyes wide and frightened as air was denied him So Bucky got It in ways Captain America’s friends and colleagues couldn’t. They couldn’t see the sheer joy that shone in every pore when Steve got to run. All these years later, he still appreciated the simple fact of his body working when he instructed it to do something that would have flat out killed him when they were younger.

He guessed he had more than just the size of Steve’s dick to thank Abraham Erskine for if he ever met him on the other side.

“That one of yours?” Cobra asked suddenly, his voice a gravelly rumble. “That” was a red, white, and blue monstrosity that Tony “I think all gauche things are funny” Stark gifted Steve with a few months back. An entire collection, in fact. And Steve, being the practical individual he was, and in full remembrance of the Depression when if someone gave you something, anything, you treasured and cared for it like gold, said thank you and accepted the big ugly things. And in contravention to every measure of good taste, used the fucking ugly things.

“Um, yeah?” Steve answered nervously.

“I’m guessing Nicky didn’t mention anything about ‘low profile’ then.”

“He mentioned ‘delicacy,’ not ‘low profile,’ no,” Bucky replied tersely.

“Guessin’ where you come from, they don’t go hand in hand,” Cobra observed wistfully. He heaved a sigh, and shook his head. Bucky could swear he heard him mutter, “city boys,” as he stepped forward to grab the first of Steve’s suitcases.

“I’ll get that,” Steve the Energizer Bunny said, leaping forward to snag the big bag, which he tossed around like it was a tsum tsum. What? Bucky can’t like fluffy, silly, little things? Bunnies, tsum tsum, and golden retrievers were his life. It was pure coincidence they all revolved around a certain kid from Brooklyn.

Cobra just grunted and fell back into parade rest stance.

&&&

Finally, everything was stowed in Cobra’s sleek black SUV. Yes, Bucky was well aware that the respectful thing to do was to call him by his last name, Mr. or Agent or Social Worker. But he was not about to call anyone “Mr. Bubbles.” Unless it was some little kid’s cat, or an old lady’s Pekingese.

He was pretty sure “Cobra” wasn’t his legal first name, and that there was some kind of story lurking there. Not that he or Steve “let’s run headlong into danger!” Rogers would ever find out. Well, at least the SUV was comfortable, even if the driver was preternaturally silent. He made Bucky look downright loquacious.

Neither of them had ever been to Hawaii, the grouping of islands that made up the fiftieth state. So he was grateful they had someone local to help them get around. And, it looked like the op was Cobra’s anyway, so he supposed he was the de facto lead on the mission. Fury had warned them they’d have to get transport to other islands in the chain, but he wasn’t expecting the tiny airstrip they pulled into, or the rickety looking biplane sitting on the tarmac, the props idle. The nose was decorated by a painting of a cute little dark-haired girl with a big exotic bloom behind her ear, her face alight with a cheeky grin. The word, “Lilo” was painted in loopy script down the fuselage.

“Look, I know we’re from the 1940s, but we’re okay with modern conveniences, honest,” Bucky said, eyeing the antique plane with distrust. Definitely no in-flight service, and he was pretty sure there was no Wifi. “Y’didn’t have to raid the mothballs just for us.”

“I dunno, Buck, it’s kinda cool. This looks older than we are.”

“Yeah, Steve, that’s kinda the problem. We’re already over 100 years old – what does that make this?”

“Relax. She’s more modern than she looks. Can’t use anything bigger for the strip where we’re going.”

He pulled the SUV right up to the plane and hopped out, pulling a little device from his pocket and pointing it at. The side hatch slid silently up and out of sight, revealing a spacious cargo area. Cobra glanced over his shoulder and tugged his sunglasses down just enough so he could arch his one eyebrow and give Bucky a look. 

Okay, so it was fancier than a Great War biplane. He and Steve deplaned and started pulling the luggage out of the back of the SUV, dragging it over to the plane. No one was more surprised than Bucky that it all fit, with room to spare.

“How is that possible?” Bucky asked, staring into the hold. It wasn’t that big. It couldn’t hold everything, yet it did, and had room leftover. It was impossible.

“Transdimensional warping, courtesy of Dr. Jumba Jookiba.”

“And what’s that when it’s at home.”

“It’s bigger on the inside. He’s built a mini-TARDIS, Buck!” Steve “the nerd” Rogers said excitedly, thumping Bucky on the back. He was kinda regretting his lunch choices when Steve slammed him one too many times.

“Spatial transference only. It doesn’t travel in time.”

“Looks like it came from about the year I was born.”

“An illusion to keep the locals from suspecting its true form and purpose.”

“Which are?”

“Once we’re at our destination, gentlemen. Which we can’t reach as long as you’re standing on the strip lollygagging.”

&&&

The approach to Kauai was breathtaking – stretches of beach and blue-green water flowing into and out of the curving coastline, rising cliffs and tree-studded plateaus, thundering waterfalls, the deep, long chasm of a canyon that ran miles across the island, stretches of green – lawns and tropical forest. It was magical from the air. Bucky and Steve both plastered their faces to the windows looking out, like little kids trying to see their favorite ball player between the legs of adults. Like they’d done, once upon another lifetime.

With two super soldiers practically climbing out the window, both on the same side, it was surprising the little plane didn’t overbalance. Then again, Bucky was starting to suspect that the plane was a lot more than it looked like. For one thing, the propellers were barely moving, and there was no engine sound, yet they were cruising comfortably at 20,000 feet. 

“The Garden Island,” Cobra said suddenly.

“Come again?” Bucky called without unplastering his face from the glass.

“Kauai. The Garden Island. Often used in film and television projects because of its natural beauty.”

“I thought that waterfall looked familiar.”

“You’ve probably seen it a number of times. We’re on the east coast of the island. That’s Opaekaa Falls down below. A little further south in Lihue are the Wallua Falls – we’ll fly over that shortly. You should try to take a day to tour the island, take in the sights.”

“Reconnaisance?”

“Even better. Pay special attention to the elevations.”

“Reason being?”

“That’s where your target tends to stay.”

Now Bucky turned reluctantly away from the window to look at Cobra. “You gonna fill us in?”

“When we land. It’ll all make better sense when you can see what I’m talking about. Trust me – you won’t believe it without visual evidence.”

“I’m a 100-year-plus old super soldier with a metal arm, and I live with a whackjob genius, with an occasional god dropping by for drinks, and a woman who can kill you seventeen ways just with her thighs.”

“Ah, Natasha! Lovely lady. She’s my favorite.”

“What I’m getting at is there’s not much that surprises me.”

“This will.”

Steve “Man with a Plan” Rogers was uncharacteristically silent.

And that, more than anything, worried Bucky.

&&&

They bypassed the commercial airport in Lihue, cruised down the coast, over a ridge of mountains stretching into the heart of the island, curved around the southern end, and then fucking hovered over the tropical forest just inland from a stretch of beach.

Yeah, Bucky wouldn’t even bother to bet anything that this “plane” was advanced technology. He hadn’t been fooled for a minute.

As the “plane” descended quietly through the canopy and down among the tall, scaled trunks of the palm trees, Bucky craned his neck to see just what secret installation they were being dropped into the shit at. But all he could see was a rambling clapboard house with multiple levels, sharing space with trees and native flowers, topped off by an odd-looking turret that appeared to have a dome on it. There was a carpark under the house, and in it sat a battered bug, and a weird looking red buggy of some sort. A kid’s toy, maybe?

Whatever it was, the occupants of the house must have been waiting for their arrival, because the front door opened, and out tumbled a bunch of figures. Let’s see, an attractive dark-haired woman with lovely caramel skin, a little girl who looked like she might be a younger sister. A cute young guy with an open shirt showing off a nice looking chest adorned by a shell necklace. Nice legs, too – his board shorts were rocking. Then Bucky glanced toward his six and remembered his best guy was right there. Even though he knew Steve “I’m a straight white tease” Rogers would never be interested in him that way, he was loyal to a fault. Next to Cutie was a bulky guy with … purple skin and four eyes? And next to him a jittering … something … with three legs, one eye, and a very large mouth.

And crawling up the side of the building with – was that six legs? – was a blue dog-looking thing with big ears. even bigger eyes, and antennae.

“Aliens,” Cobra said simply as the craft touched down without a shudder.

Yep, Buck might have known.

Delicate touch, his fine pert ass. They had a fucking invasion on their hands.

&&&  
  


“They’re here!” she came clattering down the stairs, her alien friend crawling down the wall and keeping pace with her frantic sprint.

“LIlo –“ her older sister Nani called in warning, trying to catch the little girl before she broke her neck. As usual, it was a lost cause. At ten years old, Lilo Pelekai was a force of nature, and had been her entire life.

“C’mon, we don’t want to keep him waiting!”

“Captain America?”

“No, not him. Nobody cares about Captain America, Nani! No, _he_ is the Winter Soldier,” the small dark-haired girl breathed reverently. “The ex-Fist of Hydra, the best assassin the history of the world! He’s my hero. Stitch, too!”

“Wagga wagga!” Stitch replied with enthusiasm.

“Lilo, ex-assassins aren't very good role models –“

“Nonsense,” Dr. Jumba Jookiba replied, waddling into the living room of the multi-species home. “Best assassin in history of the planet is an excellent role model! He excels in his chosen field, much like evil genius inventor! He is perfect to capture experiment 218. And he demonstrates dedication to his craft.”

“Pretty sure it’s not how that actually worked,” Nani muttered under her breath as she followed the others toward the door. They were joined by Pleakley, yet again in his “human female” disguise that fooled no one, and David Kawena, her sort of boyfriend, brought up the rear. He’d come in from surfing to meet his personal hero, Captain America. Maybe he’d rub off on Lilo.

Nah, it hadn’t happened yet, and David had been around all of Lilo’s life.

Well, there was always tomorrow.

They all tumbled out the front door as Cobra brought the hovercraft in on approach. It descended silently from above the treetops, and settled into its parking space without a hitch. And then Lilo and Stitch were streaking toward the craft, Lilo shrieking, “Bucky Barnes! Bucky Barnes!” at the top of her very well developed lungs.

“She projects very well,” David said mildly, a wry twist to his lips. He always found something positive, even when everything was going to shit. Nani smiled at him. She couldn’t believe he was still around after all these years.

“Do you think he’d be willing to sign my card collection?” he whispered to her, glancing surreptitiously toward where the very tall, very muscly, and very much here in her yard Captain America deplaned the hovercraft. He pulled the cards out of the pocket in his board shorts. “I just got the last one off eBay last month.”

“David –“

“Why is he called ‘Captain America’?” Pleakley wanted to know, shoving his monocular face right between them.

“It’s a name the government gave him back during World War II, to help him sell war bonds,” David answered smoothly.

“Earth fought two wars with other worlds? Fascinating! But why name him after a country in an interplanetary conflict?”

“I, uh –“

“Don’t even try,” Nani whispered to David, and David nodded. 

Nani turned around and gasped at the sight of her little sister riding on the shoulders of a beautiful dark-haired man with blue eyes and a metal arm. Stitch hung off the metal fingers, jumping up and down excitedly. Cobra and Captain America – Steve Rogers, she corrected herself in her head – were removing luggage from the hovercraft to transfer to Cobra’s Kauai SUV so he could take both men to their hotel. But first … council of war.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is actually a story here. And it's not going to be all cracky silliness. There will be a little bit of angst, and maybe some discovery going on. Maybe dancing. Definitely ukulele playing.
> 
> The KASK Project asked for at least 10,000 words, and we're well on our way. I don't anticipate this turning into a lengthy trip, but there are some things that have to happen. Trust me, they'll be worth it. :)
> 
> And as usual, comments give me life! Thanks for hanging with me!


	4. Take the High Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys find out what the op is, Bucky finds himself the object of affection from an unexpected source, and support comes from an equally unexpected quarter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay getting back to this. I've been wanting to work on this and my other WIPs, plus several new pieces that are taking over my brain. But among Inktober - which I haven't finished yet - work - which is driving me insane - dealing with autumn landscaping issues at my house - still very much a work in progress - and a sort of block I haven't been able to break through previously, nothing's been written since I finished Architecture in August.
> 
> But, in the aftermath of "decision 2016" here in the States, I needed to work on this. So, have another chapter. The next chapter is nearly complete as well, so should come soon, possibly in the next few days.

Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to handle the feisty little girl who ran to him and wrapped her pudgy little arms around his thigh. “Up, up!” she cried, and the next thing he knew, she was perched on his shoulders, her fingers threaded through his hair as her blue dog – wait, did dogs come in blue in this new century? And did they normally have six legs? He’d have to ask Mr. “Internet is So Helpful” over there – fucking climbed him like a tree. He just hoped the friggin’ thing was housebroken.

Lilo – she’d introduced herself as Lilo, Bucky’s biggest fan – and Stitch – weird name for a dog, but hey, he went by Bucky and that wasn’t much better in some circles – was his second. Strange. But her cheerful patter and the dog’s odd noises – not barking, more like … speech? In an alien language? – were soothing in a really fucked up sort of way.

The rest of team Lilo – the older young woman who looked like a grown up version of the munchkin, the good-looking guy with the pecs and the shell necklace, the four-eyed something or other, and the one-eyed something else – were waiting for them on the landing, all looking kind of hesitant and braced for impact. Bucky lifted his metal arm and waved tentatively, and as one, they all kind of released some kind of pent-up breath, returning his wave with enthusiasm and smiles.

Steve “I’m Really a Golden Retriever and I’m Up for Adoption” Rogers was already bounding toward them, big-ass grin on his stupid face, and, well, that ass … 

So before Bucky realized it, he was following in the wake of that ass like the satellite he was, complete with his own peculiar entourage.

Behind him, Cobra humphed, and turned soundlessly to pilot some kind of anti-grav sled loaded up with their belongings. A moment later, it wafted past Bucky toward the house, but Bucky barely had time to register it as Lilo started pounding on his shoulders to hurry up. 

Okay …

Welcome to his big-ass, fucked up life. In Paradise.

&&&

The interior of the sprawling house wasn’t so odd, if you ignored the evil genius laboratory on the main level on the way to the bathroom, and the wig- and dress-bedecked bedroom that spilled feather boas and floppy hats out into the hallway across from the evil genius lab. And the blue six-legged dog that sat on the sofa with its big warm eyes watching Bucky expectantly. And the little guillotine that Lilo toyed with, letting the little blade drop down to chop off tentacles from what looked like a homemade Hydra emblem …

Okay, yeah, the place was weird. This whole century was weird. At least there were snacks. And bath products. Bucky was very, very fond of bath products. He was looking forward to exploring what the islands had to offer in that area …

But, he digressed within his own internal monologue. The whole group had convened in the little living room of the house, and after he and Steve “I’ve Got the Bladder of a Water Buffalo and the Waist of a Ten Year Old Girl” – seriously, he could probably wear one of Lilo’s belts if he sucked it in just a scouch – made use of the facilities, it looked like they were ready to settle in for a council of war.

So of course, there was a Powerpoint presentation. And a sheet stretched haphazardly across the big picture window to provide a screen.

And a stool for Lilo to stand on while she went over the finer points of the Experiments of Dr. Jumba Jookiba. He would be the four-eyed dude.

And the blue dog with six arms or legs or whatever – Stitch – perched a pair of glasses on his nose, picked up a pointer, and stood on the other side of the makeshift screen, and pointed sagely to the weird images on the screen while Lilo narrated. Weird images in what appeared to be crayon.

So, Stitch was an Experiment created by Jumba, one of many. The other Experiments would be the “cousins” of Stitch, aka 626. Which meant there were 625 more of them out there. Apparently, all living productive lives in their One True Places, which had been found with the help of Lilo, Stitch, and her band of weird and wonderful.

Except one, apparently. A little thing called “Target” had somehow had his bad meter turned back to 100%, his powers had been super-charged, he’d skipped out on his One True Person, and now he was terrorizing the island. And this made Lilo very sad. And Stitch, too. His One True Person wasn’t very happy either. And apparently, law enforcement and the tourist board weren’t real thrilled, either.

And wouldn’t you know it, the whole Team Weird thought that Bucky was the perfect mook to bring down the slippery little devil. Well, yes, he was the world’s best sniper. And Target was moving so fast and had become so adept at avoiding capture, only the best would do. Ergo, only Bucky could sink a trank dart into the errant little fucker’s red and white bullseyed behind. So, yeah, he wasn’t following in the wake of the Spangly-Assed Hero this time – old Stevie was along for the ride where Bucky was the hero in residence. He got to be the sidekick this op. The idea tickled Bucky.

But Lilo really was sad about Target losing his goodness, and his One True Person was really sad, and Stitch was really sad, and all the cousins were sad, and Jumba was kinda sad, and David made sad noises, and Nani just kind of did a side-eye at everyone being so sad, but even she seemed affected when the word “ohana” was invoked. So, well, it was all just very, very sad. 

Honestly, if Bucky didn’t have a rep to uphold amongst these civilians, he’d be wiping away a tear or two. He let Mr. “Honest, Decent, and True” do it for him, and didn’t even smirk when he passed him a handkerchief to sop at the snot that was threatening to pour alongside the tears.

It was a heartwarming, inspiring story of helping creatures created for evil find their One True Place to be happy and make others happy. And one of them had been cruelly turned evil against his will, and now his family, his ohana, was trying to bring him home and rehabilitate him.

The irony wasn’t lost on Bucky.

It didn’t help that Steve turned to him with a watery smile, and patted him on the knee, like he understood and supported him no matter what. Which he did, Bucky knew he did. It didn’t mean that Bucky agreed with that. And it sure didn’t help that Bucky was tempted to shift position so Steve’s hand fell a little further north, by accident, of course. Because just once he’d like to know what it felt like to touch Steve as something more than a friend –

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” the one-eyed alien, Peaky or something asked him just then, leaning in and fluttering the enormous lashes arching out over that one, fucking huge, eye.

“Um, what?” Bucky asked blankly, glancing sideways to Lilo at the “front” of the room with her presentation, and Steve to his side, his big slab of a hand still resting hot and solid against his knee. Anywhere but into that freaky eye.

“Why, Jumba’s experiments, of course. And how Lilo has successfully naturalized them. Of course, she couldn’t have done it without me and my knowledge of galactic protocol. Is there a Summer Soldier, or do you just favor the colder months?”

“Huh?”

“Because of course it never gets really cold here in Hawaii. You’d have to learn to acclimate to the temperature and humidity levels if you were to settle here.”

“Um, why would I be settling here?”

“Why, so we can date, silly! I find you _very_ attractive,” Peebly, or whatever its name was, said suggestively, pursing its big red-tipped lips and fluttering that big lash at him again. Seriously, Bucky expected to have it poke one of his eyes out. “You don’t have a girlfriend already, do you? You don’t look like you have a girlfriend, and I don’t see a ring –“

Panic rose like bile up Bucky’s throat, and he did the first thing that sprang to mind. He grabbed Steve’s hand in his and shoved it in PK-whatever’s face and said, “No, I have a boyfriend!”

Steve “Anything I Can Do to Help, Buck” leaned forward and smiled incandescently at the pouting alien, and waved a cute little wave.

Bucky felt the need to cross his legs right then as every drop of blood in his body rushed south. Who knew a little wave and a sweet smile could be so erotic?

“Oh. Oh well, if you change your mind and decide you’d rather have a _real woman_ , I’m available,” P-what said huffily yet hopefully. Bucky nodded dumbly while Steve stifled a silent chuckle.

Bucky sat back in his seat with a thunk and a woosh and stared at the slide Lilo had displayed on the makeshift screen.

Oh yeah. Well, truly, and completely fucked. That was him.

Steve’s hand felt so good in his, squeezing gently to convey his reassurance. Bucky had no plans to let go any sooner than he had to. A glance to the side confirmed the alien was watching them, not very subtly either. Steve just twitched a little smile, but settled back and held Bucky’s hand like he did it every day.

Which Bucky wished he would. But …

Yeah. _Fucked_.

&&&

After the presentation, the team broke up into smaller groups. Bucky, Cobra, and Jumba went over topographic maps and aerial photos of the island, while Nani pressed Steve “What Can I Do to Help?” into service along with Lilo, Stitch, One-Eye – _Pleakley_ , he learned – and Cute Guy – David. Apparently the Pelekai family had decided to provide a little welcome party, a private luau, for Bucky and Steve before they transitioned to their hotel, and the lady of the house was not above taking advantage of super soldier muscles to help get it ready.

In the meantime, Bucky studied the terrain displayed in the maps and photos, listened to Jumba describe the intent of the creature and how the accident that supercharged it had altered its powers. It had been a relatively failed experiment, not moving fast enough to avoid capture easily, while now it moved like a blur and had easily evaded the team on every excursion they’d gone on to recover the little guy. 

But, interestingly enough, unless it was being actively pursued, it tended to follow a general path of destruction around the island, in the upper elevations – the high ground – so it could be possible to lay in way for him in an unpopulated area, and then pick him off when he came through.

So. Patience. Waiting. Stillness. Shot. Sleepytime for Target.

Bucky could do that in his sleep. Had done, a few times.

He had this.

Except for the longing, sighing, melodramatic glances from Pleakley.

And the knowing smirk of doom from Steve “I’m a Terrible Actor but I’ll Try Anyway” as he pretended to be an attentive boyfriend in the face of that one big green eye.

Bucky swallowed convulsively. It was gonna be a long night, and possibly a long op.

And he planned to milk it for all it was worth.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to come back to. I really love this fusion of fandoms, and I'm so glad The Kask Project suggested it.
> 
> Coming in my creative pipeline are sequels to I, Barnes and Architecture, and a standalone story that has been clogging my brain. I'm really surprised I was able to write anything that wasn't that story, because it's been taking over my head for weeks. And I have to thank Shanology for suggesting that this be NaNoFaFi - the month of finishing incomplete fan fiction! I'm hoping to finish It Takes a Village this month, along with Ohana. And maybe get some more written of Threads and On the Air. Yeah, I got plans, but we'll see how that works out.


	5. Hunkahunka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the conspiracy grows, help comes from an unexpected quarter, and Maria Hill has a black, black heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a new chapter! This officially brings the story to longer than what I promised. More to come!

The council of war was followed up by a trek through the jungle near the house to the beach below. A small bonfire crackled merrily in a firepit surrounded by a ring of rough-hewn benches. Picnic tables were set up at one end, and a small stage at the other. Tiki torches flickered and danced around the periphery, creating a warm, golden bubble in the clear night. Bucky was pretty sure the Pelakai family wasn’t rolling in it, so he assumed this was a communal space. A little tacked to an old pylon at the edge of the foliage announcing it was a town park confirmed his theory.

As they came out of the brush, pushing aside broad-fronded leaves to reveal the cheery scene, Bucky was immediately struck by the view of Steve “I’m not a god, I just look like one” Rogers bathed in firelight, head thrown back in laughter, while David leaned in, speaking softly. 

Bucky felt his heart break a little more, just as it did every time he looked at Steve “I’m Straight and I’ll Never See You” Rogers. It was his lot in life, he knew, but he couldn’t help allowing himself a moment to just look, drinking in the sight of Steve “Never Gonna See Twenty, Buck,” whole, healthy, and happy. 

So what if he was talking to someone else, laughing at someone else, smiling at someone else?

He was used to having his heart broken.

Had been since the first day he’d laid eyes on that scrawny punk with the bloody lip and the fire in his eyes.

A goner for life.

But he’d take what he was given, and was thankful every day that Steve had seen twenty, twenty-one, and now into his thirties. So what if the world thought he was pushing near 100? He’d always be young and beautiful and perfect to Bucky, no matter what.

So Bucky allowed himself a moment to simply look, and smile a private little smile to himself, part sad, part grateful, part lustful, all love.

And then the impossible happened.

Steve “Straight White Cock Tease” Rogers looked up at him not with fire in his eyes, but sheer, unadulterated delight. The smile that broke further across his face was impossibly bright, impossibly wide, impossibly just for him as he got up and strode across the beach in mile-eating wide strides. And suddenly he was there, right in front of Bucky, and Bucky felt the air punch right out of his lungs as Steve “I’m Never Telling if I’m a Virgin or Not” cupped one hand gently against Bucky’s cheek, and slid the other around his waist, pulling him close and closing his perfect, soft, warm, open mouth against his. Bucky’s brain shorted out and shut down as he felt the barest hint of tongue brush across his lower lip, and his mouth fell open in rhythm to Steve’s without thought, without hesitation.

Equally without conscious thought, Bucky’s arms flew to wrap around his broad, firm, _there_ shoulders, hands caressing his neck, fingers twining in his soft, short hair, tangling in the longer strands on top. A groan started to bubble up from his toes as the kiss went on, until he felt Steve’s lips moving against his, not in a kiss, but in words.

“Keep it up. Pleakley’s still watching,” Steve murmured with a chuckle lacing his low voice.

Oh.

And fuck.

_Of course._

This was an op. Steve “Anything for the Cause” Rogers wasn’t kissing _him_ , he was acting out the part.

Of course Steve “I’m Still Holding a Torch for Peggy” Rogers wasn’t kissing him. He had no interest in Bucky, and why should he? Steve was straight and beautiful and perfect. He could have anyone, he should’ve had Peggy if history had worked out in his favor, and he was obviously holding out for perfection to match his own. Bucky was broken and used and queer as they come. Not good enough for Steve “the Beacon of Liberty,” no matter his fantasies. He was lucky Steve still stuck by him as a friend. Then again, he’d never really mentioned the queer part. But he knew Steve wouldn’t dump him for that – Steve was vocally an ally, a supporter and a safe haven. Bucky just didn’t want to complicate things with questions that might be too painful to answer.

He was lucky he could think of Steve Rogers as “Bucky Barnes’s best friend.”

Well, then, fuck it. If this was all he’d ever have, he was gonna make it count, goddammit! “Better put on a good show, then,” he murmured back, and tilted Steve’s face to dive in again, grasping Steve by the biceps – and oh, what biceps! – to hold him fast while he turned the kiss filthy.

And if he teased a groan out of the mouth that moved sensually against his, if broad, strong hands slid down his back to grab hold of his ass cheeks, if Bucky could feel the warmth of Steve’s “I’m a Furnace, Don’t Judge” body from lips to knees, he was gonna allow himself a moment to revel in the sensation. This was going in the spank bank, and he counted on it to keep him warm at night for years to come.

“Hey, save it for when you get to your room!” called Nani.

“Come, Captain, I wish for to take a specimen to see if I can clone you,” yelled Jumba. “Just a little bit of brain would be good.”

“Hey, bruhs, food’s getting cold!” cried David.

“Well, I never!” practically screeched Pleakley.

“You’re all stupidheads!” shouted Lilo.

“Eh!” answered Stitch.

“Gentlemen, may I remind you you are on assignment?” came the soft, calm, sober voice of Cobra Bubbles, cutting neatly through the night. “And these nice people have put on a luau in your honor. The least you could do is attend.”

And suddenly Bucky’s lips felt cold, his whole body chilled as Steve “Anything for Duty” let go and stepped back, his eyes wide, that little worry furrow drilling a hole between his eyebrows. A small, tentative smile twitched across his lips as he opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut.

Bucky felt sick. Had he taken that kiss too far? Was the expression in Steve’s eyes disgust? Fear? Rejection?

Bucky’s right hand shot out and caught Steve’s wrist in a gentle grip. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat?” he suggested quietly.

And the panic in Steve’s eyes died away, replaced by a relieved smile as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s eat. Smells great, huh?”

And the Earth shifted back on its axis, their easy camaraderie restored as they jostled each other, sprinting for the luau and the tables laden with food.

&&&

The food was good, the company better. Any lingering awkwardness from their heated kiss seemed to evaporate onto the fragrant island air. They’d joked and elbowed each other during dinner, compared the food to what they remembered of growing up, and what they tried living in modern day New York. One particularly tasty dish Steve practically moaned over, and then begged Bucky to get the recipe, since they both knew Steve “my middle name is ptomaine” was absolute shit in the kitchen. Bucky agreed provided Steve was the one to procure said recipe, so now Steve was over with Nani getting the goods while Lilo sat next to her sister staring at Bucky. Once she even did the “I’m lookin’ at you” hand gesture, and Bucky just frowned. 

In the meantime, Pleakley continued to alternately simper and growl, its interest in Bucky unabated through the evening as it moved closer and closer to where Bucky was sitting. Steve was still occupied, now talking to David Kawena again, looking over a ukulele David had handed him. Bucky watched wistfully as the two beautiful men laughed together. Eying Pleakley getting ever closer, Bucky briefly considered making a run for it, but he wasn’t sure if those three legs made the alien faster, or just served to make it more awkward. Whichever, he didn’t want to risk getting away from the group and actually getting caught by the alien.

So, yeah, he wasn’t above using Steve “I once punched a tank” Rogers as a human shield when it came to lovesick aliens. But at the same time, he didn’t want to monopolize his best friend’s time when he was having a good time.

So Pleakley continued to ogle Bucky openly, gradually closing the distance and keeping its one eye firmly directed at Bucky as Bucky tried to pretend he was ignoring it. Steve kept sending worried glances his way, but Bucky shrugged minutely, letting Steve have some fun. Lilo watched the exchange and practically shouted at him – silently – like what was he thinking? 

Everyone was aware of Pleakley’s unabashed interest, and finally with a heavy sigh, Jumba decided it was time to put a stop to the passive aggressive attention of the one-eyed alien. He got up just as Lilo jumped down from her seat and started stalking toward Steve.

“Come, Pleakley, it is time to prepare your report for the Galactic Council.” Lilo stopped, turning toward Jumba, her head cocked as she waited for Pleakley’s response.

“It’s not due for another three days, Jumba –“

“And you are always a week late. Come, we will work on it together, and this time you may get it done on time. Madame President may even say thank you,” Jumba replied in an encouraging sing-song. Lilo relaxed then, and turned back to her little blue pal and nudged him toward the little stage.

“Do you really think so? Wow, Jumba, thank you – let’s go!” Pleakley replied enthusiastically, its three legs churning up the sand in its eagerness to get started. “I have important business to conduct for the Galactic Federation. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone, baby,” Pleakley paused to tell Bucky, striking what it evidently thought was an alluring pose as it trailed a three-fingered hand up his forearm. Bucky had to exercise iron control to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head.

“You owe me,” Jumba mouthed toward Bucky as he came up behind Pleakley.

“Anything,” Bucky mouthed back.

&&&

After Lilo and Stitch’s hula, which consisted mostly of Lilo dancing while she narrated Stitch pretending to be Godzilla razing Tokyo – they all loaded up the anti-grav sled with the leftovers, doused the fire and torches, made sure the picnic site was clean and orderly, and made their way back to the Pelekai home. They all said good night, and Bucky endured a particularly rib-crushing hug from Pleakley and another close call with Pleakley’s eyelashes nearly poking out one of Bucky’s eyes. 

Finally, they were able to say their farewells, and climb into Cobra’s Kauai SUV – the dude must have a fleet of them, one on every island – to head to their hotel, the Birds of Paradise, closer to Kokaua Town.

“That went surprisingly well,” was all he said.

They arrived at their hotel about twenty minutes later, a resort-y looking place with graceful fountains, intricately laid mosaics, and swaying palms framing the covered entrance to the lanai surrounding the first level of the hotel. Steve and Bucky grabbed their own luggage but gave it up to the bellhop who hurried out from the registration area with a cart.

“I’ll pick you in the morning to head out to scout locations. Oh-eight-hundred okay with you?”

“Make it noon,” Bucky answered with a yawn. “Remember, we just leap-frogged six time zones without a break. Even super soldiers need their beauty sleep. This one’s obviously been missing out,” he hooked a thumb toward Steve “Pinnacle of Human Perfection” with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you mook. Next time I’ll leave you to romance the alien,” he chuckled, handing over his hideous luggage to the bellhop, who stared at both of them in open-mouthed awe.

“You’re … you’re –“

  
“Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes to you, son,” Cobra interrupted, stepping in between the goggling teen and Steve and Bucky. “Veterans on vacation. I expect I won’t see anything about their visit on social media. _Ever_. ‘Cos that would be a _bad_ thing.”

“A very bad thing, sir,” the bellhop repeated, nodding slowly. 

“Glad we understand each other. Okay, you two. Noon it is. Don’t make me wait.”

With that, he slipped back in his SUV and was gone, leaving Steve and Bucky to stare at each other and the bellhop.

“This way?” the bellhop suggested nervously.

&&&

“Captain America needs a boyfriend.”

“Lilo, I’m pretty sure he already has one.”

“That’s just for show. Pleakley freaked Bucky out flirting with him.”

“Well, that would freak anyone out. It freaks _me_ out. But why do you think they’re pretending? Looked pretty real to me.”

“It was the first time they did that. Kissed.”

“How do you know?”

“They were both surprised. Like they never did it before and didn’t know they were gonna like it.”

So, okay, they’re pretending? Well?”

“Well, duh!”

“But …”

“Have you seen the way he looks at Bucky?”

“Well, yes, but if it’s just for show, maybe he’s just a very good actor.”

“Pffft! I watched his movies on TCM. He’s not that good an actor. He’s a terrible actor. There’s a guy on the Internet who does parody videos who’s a better actor than him.”

“Okay?”

“Have you seen the way Bucky looks at him?”

“Well, yes, but, y’know, they _are_ professionals. On assignment, maybe … maybe acting like they’re a couple helps them with the assignment.”

Lilo levelled her big sister with a baleful glare. “And how does pretending to be boyfriends help Bucky Barnes, the greatest sniper in the history of sniping, catch Target?”

“Well, when you put it like that …”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?”

“They belong together. They’re crazy for each other. They just don’t know it yet.”

“Lilo, you can’t just go around planning people’s futures for them.”

“Why not?”

“Well, some people don’t approve of two men loving each other. It’s their choice whether or not they get together.”

“Well, they’re just stupidheads. Love is love. Even if you don’t use it.”

“Don’t use it? What do you mean?”

“You and David. David loves you. You love David. But you don’t use it. You don’t let him love you.”

“I, um –“

“I see you. You look at David the way that Captain America looks at Bucky. And David looks at you the way Bucky looks at Captain America. I’m surrounded by stupidheads.”

“Well, Lilo, it’s not that simple –“

“You love David. David loves you. David is part of our ohana. His one true place is with us. What’s not so simple?”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

“Good. I already made a reservation for you at the hotel restaurant so you can tell David you’re not going to be a stupidhead anymore.

“You did, huh? And who’s paying for this big gesture?”

“I’m charging it to Cobra Bubbles. You’re going undercover.”

“Undercover.”

“Yep. Stitch and I have a plan. It’s called ‘Give Bucky Barnes a Boyfriend’.”

&&&

Check in was a breeze, everything all taken care of by SHIELD. Bless Hill’s black little heart. Jason, their rapt bellhop, stood by while they got registered, picked up their keys and buffet vouchers, and bid a sleepy goodnight to the hotel concierge. Then it was up in the elevator to the top floor, where Bucky was expecting a luxurious two-bedroom suite with an outdoor terrace overlooking the white sand beach and the green-blue lagoon beyond.

What they got was a small room with a single – albeit very, very large – bed pushed up against one wall, with an attached bathroom large enough to fit ten of their old apartment back in 1940s Brooklyn, complete with Jacuzzi, soaking tub, and room-sized shower stall. With room for a yoga studio. In the bedroom proper, there was a desk, an office chair, a small – like Lilo-sized – chair and matching ottoman, a serviceable dresser and luggage stand, and a wall made up entirely of window, with gauzy curtains that filtered the view of the town’s lights reflecting off the surging surf beyond.

“Uh …” Bucky said dully.

“Um … ?” Steve “My brain has gone bye-bye” asked.

“Did you not want the honeymoon suite?” Jason asked, confused by the stunned expressions on the faces of the super soldiers. “This is what was ordered when you reservation was made –“

“Honeymoon suite?” Bucky squeaked.

“It’s, um, well …” Steve faltered.

“It’s just that we’re booked up right now – this is the only room that’s available, at least until after the weekend. I take it this isn’t what you were expecting …”

“Uh, no. It’s kind of a joke, I think. But if there’s nothing else, we’ll make do.”

“So, you guys aren’t. I mean, not that there’s anything wrong either way, it’s just that – well, my boyfriend and I kinda look up to you, we’ve been shipping you forever, y’know? Would be kinda cool to find out we were right, but … yeah, I’ll go. Just let me know if there’s anything you need, okay? And, um, thank you for your service. You guys are heroes, and it’s an honor to have you staying here with us. Heck, it’s an honor to have you on the island!” Jason stammered, backing out of the room with the cart. 

Steve broke out of his reverie then and pulled out his wallet, extracting a twenty and pressing it into Jason’s hand. “Thanks. We’ll let you know.”

Jason grinned at them then, and Steve unleashed his Supersoldier Supersmile, Patent Pending, and Bucky had to hold back a chuckle as Jason nearly melted into the floor. Cleaning up the stain would’ve been a pain, so he was glad to see the kid get out of the room on his own two feet, instead of oozing across the carpet. 

When the door snicked shut behind him, Steve “Never Met a Challenge He Ever Backed Down From” turned to Bucky and asked, “Right or left?”

Oh, fuck you Hill, and your little black heart.

Kisses, smiles, touches? File those away to pull out and snuggle on a bad day.

Sleep in the same bed?

Bucky was so very, very, _very_ screwed.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone commented about self-care. Like many of my readers, I am hurting after this week's election result. Being creative is the best possible self-care for me. Writing, drawing, working with my hands - all of these help me to ground myself and find strength.
> 
> Do what you need to do to be safe. Let's take care of each other. We are ohana.


	6. Misunderstand Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which misunderstandings are created, plots are hatched, and everyone's on the verge of something new ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is stressed, both in my professional life, and in the world around me. There is a little angst here, but there's also hope. And stupidheads. Lots of stupidheads.

Steve “I’m a Walking Meme” Rogers, of course, took the left. Leaving Bucky stuck with the right and the wall. Which meant that by morning, Bucky was jammed up against said wall rocking a drool trail and a cheek-sized wall impression on his face. And a woody that was both unwelcome and fucking painful.

And the only way out was either sliding down the bed and out the foot, or over the still slumbering cause of said woody. Either way, it wasn’t going to be comfortable, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Bucky gingerly lifted the covers and carefully folded them back, trying not to jar the bed and wake up old Sleeping Beauty there. And hell if he didn’t look like a blond Prince Charming come to life from that old classic – a classic they both discovered this side of the ice, mind you, but a classic nonetheless. Bucky sat there a moment, sheet and coverlet pooled around his waist, and smiled as he looked down on Steve’s sleeping form. Hair adorably mussed, slack mouthed with a drool trail of his own, long, thick lashes casting shadows on his cheeks that were faintly freckled like fairy dust, pink lips inviting him to bend down and take a taste …

He caught himself halfway to kissing Steve in his sleep, and had to control the shudder that threatened to rock through him. A moment’s loss of control, and Bucky could lose all that was good in his life. 

He straightened slowly, carefully, and started to shimmy his way down the length of the bed, mindful of not jarring Steve in any way, yet becoming increasingly more aware of the pressure in his bladder.

So, of course, Steve “I’m Punishing You for Your Sins from All Your Past Lives” Rogers chose that exact moment to roll over, and – you guessed it – drape his slab of an arm over Bucky’s mid-section, and pull him close into a hug.

Now, Bucky was really pleasantly surprised with the warmth and silky smoothness of the miles of Steve’s skin not only on display, but fucking wrapped around him at that moment, but he really did have to _go_. Like really, really!

But Steve was warm. Acres of smooth, soft skin radiating like a frigging solar flare, the heat sinking into his bones, into joints he wasn’t even aware ached, an old familiar ache in his chest blooming wider with each passing moment he laid in Steve’s embrace …

He should go.

He should pry away the steel grip that held him, leave the warmth and the safety and the overwhelming sense of home, and just go.

Bucky took his prosthetic thumb and forefinger and tried to grasp Steve’s wrist to pluck it away just as Steve nuzzled against his hair, rubbing his nose against his cheek, a pleased hum underpinning his breathing as he murmured, “Damn, baby, you feel so _good_ ,” against Bucky’s skin.

_Cold._

That’s all Bucky knew.

Cold, from deep in his gut, spreading out to his extremities, a burning cold that leached away the heat he’d enjoyed just a moment before.

Before he knew it, he’d thrown Steve’s arm aside, bolted from the bed, and had locked himself in the bathroom, sinking to the floor with his back to door, shaking and barely holding back tears.

He was sure it was his imagination that called out, “Bucky?” in Steve’s voice.

&&&

“Miss Pelekai,” the day manager for the Bird of Paradise greeted Nani warily. His eyes shifted nervously sideways, up and down, practically rolling back in his head in his hunt for Lilo and Stitch.

Nani swallowed a laugh, and just nodded serenely. “Mr. Frobisher.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure this morning? It is going to be a pleasure, is it not? No pyrotechnics, no self-destructing ‘cousins’ today?”

“I’m meeting a friend for breakfast,” she replied pleasantly, starting to feel a bit resentful for Frobisher’s snooty attitude toward Lilo and her alien pals. Then again, Frobisher never prosecuted when one of Jumba’s experiments committed acts of mayhem at the resort, although she suspected they all had Cobra Bubbles to thank for that intervention. And no doubt infusions of cash to cover damages.

“A friend. I see. And this friend would be …?”

“Nani! Hey, I didn’t know you were joining us for breakfast,” greeted the blue-eyed blond god of a man the world knew as Captain America. He stood a few paces behind Frobisher, a huge grin on his face that lit up his eyes and made Nani feel the urge to swoon. 

Yeah, like that would sell her undercover assignment, going all gooey over Cap. And the world of hurt Lilo would rain on her was definitely not worth it. Tempting, though.

“Hey, Steve,” she greeted, all fierce nonchalance. “Actually I was planning to meet –“

“David, hey!” Bucky greeted then as he came out of the elevator. She noticed he did a quick scan of the lobby, took in Steve talking to her, David coming in by the fountain, and he suddenly veered off toward David.

Did she just see the Winter Soldier dump Captain America for _David_? _Her_ David?

Hell, no.

And two can play at that game.

Nani smiled warmly and sidled over to Steve, slipping her arm through his. “I’d love to,” she cooed, glancing toward Frobisher, who was going a fair imitation of an angelfish gulping water. “Table for four?”

&&&

She was 110% positive if she and David had been eating by themselves, they’d be at that dinky little table tucked between the swinging door to the kitchen, and the men’s room.

As it was, in deference to their famous guests, i.e., Steve and Bucky for those of you not paying attention, they were seated in a beautiful spot overlooking the beach, a manmade waterfall tinkling down from level to level nearby, and soft palm fronds floating in the breeze. The table was large and decked out in all of Bird of Paradise’s finery. Multiple waiters and waitresses attended them, many of them Nani and David’s friends, so there were lots of side-eyes, and hissed questions, and cryptic hand gestures accompanying the immaculate service. The spot was secluded, well-appointed, and reserved for only the crème de la crème.

Nani was really enjoying herself. Or she would, if her cell phone didn’t ping with a new text every few seconds.

Steve was sipping from a cup of fragrant local coffee, making pornographic noises of approval, when he looked up and waved the cup at her, asking, “Are you gonna get any of those?”

“Nah. Can’t be anything important. I’m just gonna mute it, hold on,” she answered, only slightly embarrassed as she pulled out her phone – an older model, but one of Earth origin, unlike the blinged out AlienPhone Jumba had designed for Lilo. At least Nani knew her phone wouldn’t be texting an alien armada, or some unnamed secret government agency. When Lilo was involved, she definitely wasn’t making any bets.

She glanced down at the string of texts, and sure enough, it was their friends speculating about her and David breakfasting at the hotel, hanging out with superheroes, and just when are they all going dancing again?

There was one from Lilo. Simple and to the point.

_Don’t be a stupidhead._

“I love my sister, I love my sister, I love my sister,” she whispered under her breath. 

At her side, David grinned at her. “Text from Lilo?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, deflating.

Steve chuckled. “Your little sister is quite the force of nature. Could’a used her going up against Adolph back in the day. She’d’a set him right in no time.”

“She’s passionate, I’ll say that for her. Word of advice? When she starts talking zombies, run.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied, smiling as he took another sip of brew. “Damn, I gotta get me some of these beans!”

“David can hook you up with a supplier. Beans are grown right here on the island, up on the mountain.”

“Could you? Really?”

“Yeah, sure, bra. I mean, Captain, sir –“

“Whatever’s fine. Since Cobra apparently only really wanted Buck here, I guess I’m on vacation more than anything. Got the shield, left the suit at home.” Steve shrugged, and settled back in his comfortable chair, sipping contentedly.

And yeah, there was something seriously off about Bucky today. He wouldn’t look at Steve, even though Steve kept shooting him puppy dog eyes. Seriously, could these two just get a clue? It was obvious from the sighs, the glances, the absolutely deafening pining, that they were totally into each other. And both living in Oblivion, USA. Population two stupidheads, as Lilo would say.

And that’s why Lilo sent her and David undercover. 

Okay. She was mission ready. She just hoped David was, too. Or this was going to get really, really awkward, really, really fast …

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more to come! I could have held this chapter until tomorrow so I could have more written, but I kind of liked where this ended, a moment before things really start going sideways. :)
> 
> Whether you're here for the Stucky, or the Lilo and Stitch (or like me, both!), thanks for hanging around. I hope to have another chapter up in the next couple of days, and I'll finally be able to share one of the very first scenes I wrote back when I and The KASK Project first started chatting about this crossover. It's still one of my favorite scenes, and I'm excited to share it. Stick with me!


	7. Dance of the Stupidheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Steve aren't the only stupidheads in Lilo's life, and Bucky isn't the only one who's been pining in plain sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'd planned to include that scene I wrote when I first started writing this, and a bit of plot (to come) got in the way. It should be in the next chapter, though.
> 
> I really hope you're enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Two of my all-time favorites, together at last.

“Nani?” David asked.

“Yeah?” she asked, still looking at the silly messages on her phone. Another from Lilo, admonishing her once again to eschew stupidheadedness, more from their friends asking since when did they know Captain America, at least one asking for an autograph, and two others asking for dates …

And Captain America cleared his throat loudly, saying, “Nani, I really think you need to check this out.”

She lifted her eyes to look into his thrillingly blue eyes, edges crinkling with mirth. He was pointing downward at something near her. Something was crawling up her leg, wasn’t it? She couldn’t feel anything but she knew –

“Nani, please _look_ ,” David said again, an edge of desperation creeping into his tone. 

“You might want to do as your fella asks, Nani,” Bucky added to the fray, and Nani cringed inwardly, turning stiffly to see what horror awaited …

… only to find David down on one knee, looking up at her with an expression she’d only seen in movies, and on her parents’ faces … and now that she thought about it, almost every time David looked at her … she shook her head, and asked, her voice small and squeaky, “David?”

“I made it myself, out of koa wood. Because I want to make a life with you, Nani. You’re my best friend and the only person I’ve ever loved. Would you do me the honor? Of marrying me? You, me, Lilo, Stitch, and all the rest – our own ohana?”

She could hear the in-drawn breaths around her, and she was suddenly aware that all their friends who worked at the resort were coming closer, as if drawn to an accident about to happen. She smirked at David and leaned forward, whispering, “Nice choice, David! But aren’t you laying it on a little thick?”

His expression morphed from loving and hopeful to devastated before the words were out of her mouth. “Nani, this is a _real_ proposal.”

“A _real_ proposal? David, you can’t mean … I mean, why? Why would you want to marry _me_?”

He settled back on his haunches, lowering his hands so they fell in his lap as he looked at her incredulously. “Why would I want to marry you? Nani, why _wouldn’t_ I? I’ve loved you since the day we met in kindergarten. I’ve been trying to get you to notice me, to really see me, ever since. But … you _don’t_ … do you. You don’t see me that way after all,” he added, beaten down and bereft, tears falling in fat, dejected drops.

“No, I … I don’t know, David. Marriage! I didn’t realize –“

“We’ve been dating since before your parents died. Since before Lilo was _born_ , Nani. Or did you not realize we were dating at all?” he demanded, rising to his feet. He looked down at her with such pain, such heartbreak, Nani gasped and reached abortively for him. 

She didn’t know what she felt. She’d never spent any time analyzing her relationship with David. It just was. It was comfortable and warm and always there, like it belonged there. Like it was a natural part of her life, a part of her.

But her silence seemed to confirm something for him, because his beautiful face hardened, and he hung his head sadly. “I get it. I … I don’t think I can do this anymore, Nani. Tell Lilo _I_ was the stupidhead, and I’ll see her around, okay?”

He turned then, his shoulders slumped, his beautiful body drawn in on itself as suddenly he was moving away.

David was leaving her.

This wasn’t the way the morning was supposed to go.

_David was leaving her._

They were supposed to be setting up Cap and the Winter Soldier to notice just how in love they were, to recognize that they already had the most important person ever for each of them, right there. They were supposed to smash their faces together and _kiss_.

Instead, the most important person in her life thought she didn’t love him, and he was walking away, walking out of her life.

_DAVID WAS LEAVING HER!_

_Hell, no._

There was no version of reality that Nani was willing to face that didn’t include David Kawena in it, front and center, right by her side. Without him, she …

She didn’t even realized she’d started to move, didn’t notice her feet had carried her across the dining room to stand right behind David as he reached the exit, didn’t notice her hand shoot out and grasp him by the bicep – and what a lovely bicep it was, she hadn’t realized just how nice until that moment, but really, she was just delaying the inevitable, and –

“David. Of course I say _yes_.”

He halted, his spine straightening, his head lifting, tilting to one side, and she heard him say, “Say it again, Nani.”

“I say yes, David Kawena. I, Nani Pelekai, will _marry_ you.”

The cheer from all their friends assembled in the dining room, from Steve and even Bucky, was deafening.

Of course Mr. Frobisher chose that moment to enter, and he grimaced at her, growling, “Ms. Pelekai …”

“Give it a rest, Mr. F – we’re getting married!”

&&&

Back at the table, Steve and Bucky were on their feet, clapping with all the servers and staff who suddenly were swarming the happy couple. Because David had finally turned around, hugged Nani tight, and lifted her off her feet to spin her around.

Bucky’s phone pinged, and he thumbed the lock screen away. “Text from Lilo. ‘Got any ideas?’ What the hell does that mean?”

Steve cleared his throat lightly, fidgeted a second, and then blurted, “Buck, I think we gotta talk –“

Another sound from Bucky’s phone and he held up his finger to halt the tumbling of words from Steve’s mouth. “Yeah, hold that thought. It’s noon. Cobra’s here. Gotta go,” he said, without looking at Steve.

“Wait, I thought I was going with you –“

“Nah, this is a one-man mission. Enjoy the scenery, have a swim – you’re on vacation, Steve,” Bucky called over his shoulder as he swiftly made toward the exit, pausing only long enough to kiss Nani’s cheek and high-five David on his way toward the lobby.

Steve was left with the debris of breakfast, wondering just what he’d done wrong.

&&&

Bucky swung himself into Cobra’s SUV and settled into the passenger seat.

“No Captain America?”

“Don’t need the distraction. This is a one-man op,” Bucky replied tersely, looking straight ahead.

Cobra merely murmured, “Uh-huh,” and put the vehicle in drive.

“So what’s the skinny on the target?”

“Circumnavigates the island once a day, without fail. Reaches the higher elevations mid-afternoon. So we’ll have time to pick out a good vantage point for you to take the shot long before he comes into range.”

“Not taking the shot today. Surveillance. Intel-gathering. Lay of the land mapping.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Wanna make sure there’s not something bigger than Target doggin’ its steps. Just bein’ thorough. So, do we know the exact path he takes?”

“Anecdotally.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we have reports and some surveillance footage that places him at various points on the island. That and the path of damage.”

“And do we know how fast he’s travelling?”

“Jumba could provide that information.

“And do we know how long it should take him to do the whole circuit?”

“No … why this line of inquiry?”

“I need to know these things. Need to know his path. What else might be on the path. Look, I’m gonna need my own transport. Got anything light, quiet, fast?”

“I don’t, but Jumba does. All right, back to the Pelekai’s.”

&&&

Steve was back at the ranch when Bucky and Cobra arrived, having hitched a ride back with the happy engaged couple. Nani was prancing around showing off the ring that David had carved her – it was simple, sleek, and beautiful, made even more so by the fact he’d crafted it with his own hands. Pleakley was oohing and aahing over it, and giving Bucky very pointed looks, so Buck wasn’t surprised when Steve “That’s _Prince_ Charming to you” Rogers sidled over and put his arm around Bucky’s waist, reaching for and tangling his fingers with Bucky’s left hand, his thumb working gently back and forth over the ring finger knuckle.

“Buck, really, we gotta talk –“

“Can’t. No time. Target makes his appearance up on the ridge in about an hour. Cobra’s getting me something so I can shadow him. And oh my God, Stevie. _It’s a flying car_.”

“Yeah, but – oh my God! Howard would’ve shit himself!”

“Tony’s not gonna be much better. This is it? This is what I get to use to chase the little dude?” Bucky demanded, dropping Steve’s hand and running over to let his hands dance over the exterior of the odd little vehicle. “Kinda tight for me in there, but I can make it work,” he observed, peering into the low dome topping the craft.

“ _Us_. Make it work for _us_. You ain’t goin’ anywhere in a flying car without me, Buck. I’ve been waitin’ for this ride since 1943!” Steve “I’m as much of a science geek as you are” was right behind him, just as excited as Bucky was to finally, _finally_ see a flying car!

“This is Lilo’s,” Cobra announced. “But you can use _that_ ,” he added, pointing to a sleek, futuristic looking motorcycle parked under the back porch. A motorcycle in gleaming black and shimmering chrome that hovered a few inches above the ground, making no sound at all. Bucky felt the animal pull of the bike, felt himself drawn to it like a predator, dropping his stance lower to the ground as he stalked over to it, reaching out and caressing its smooth lines, its frictionless surface.

“It … it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathed, swinging his leg over the seat and settling into its embrace. Everything about the design was as though it had been built just for him, all at the right eyeline, the right reach, the right height –

“Who made this?” he asked reverently, stroking the engine thrumming ever so lightly between his legs.

“Jumba. Last night. He had a feeling you might want something to use in pursuit.”

“He built this _last night_?”

“Apparently he needed to keep his hands busy while trying to help Wendy with its report to the Galactic Council.”

“Hands busy?” Steve asked, coming up to stand behind Bucky. Bucky twisted around to look at him, watched his hands roaming over the beauty Jumba’d built, and felt a flare of heat at what those hands could do, a flare that he immediately tamped down. 

“So he didn’t throttle Pleakley.”

“Ah. Makes sense,” Steve replied, nodding. Then he looked at Bucky and grinned. “Gonna take me for a ride?”

_No, he did not just ask that._

He did not just ask that with that fucking twinkle in his eye.

And Bucky’s cock did not just do a loop de loop in his shorts, either.

“Ummmmm.”

“S’alright, Buck. I know you gotta get to your rendezvous. Rain check?”

“Ummmmmm.”

“Oooo-kay,” Steve answered, frowning as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Well, we’d better get this loaded in the SUV and get moving. We miss his pass this afternoon, you’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow to get started. Wouldn’t want to keep you gents any longer than we have to.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, shaking himself out of his lust-fueled trance. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They manhandled the space cycle into the back of the SUV, folding down the last set of seats. There was still the bench behind the front seat, and Steve eyed it possessively. “You sure I can’t tag along? I mean, I can come back with Cobra here –“

Bucky’s stomach lurched at that, and knew he really just wasn’t ready for adult-people talking with Steve. He needed to get into the zone for the op, and he needed to start now. He said as much to Steve.

“Right. Okay. So, I’ll hang out here for now, and head back to the hotel later. See you for dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“I, uh, I dunno. Don’t wait for me. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take to shadow this little punk. Don’t wait up, huh?” Bucky told him, hauling himself into the passenger seat and patting the door with his palm.

“See ya, Cap,” Cobra sketched a salute, and then they were back on the road.

Bucky’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t tilt his head slightly so he could watch Steve in the rearview, and he found himself frowning at Steve’s expression – frustrated and sad.

Huh.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if you were a long-time viewer of _Lilo and Stitch_ , especially the Series, you probably share my frustration over the relationship of Nani and David. She just never understood that he was hers 'til the end of the line. So I really loved writing the scene with them in this chapter, finally sorting out their never addressed UST. And that will come in handy later, I promise you.


	8. Target Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky may be in denial, but he also has a job to do. One he is uniquely suited for, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the lull between challenges, I'm trying to bring my WIPs up to speed. I love this story, and I'm so pleased to share it with you. I can so see Bucky and Stitch becoming the very best of friends. Lilo and Steve? Maybe not so much. :)

Cobra Bubbles navigated the smooth roadway, turning off onto a rutted track, finally guiding the SUV onto a dirt road that was little more than an animal pathway through the jungle. The whole time, Bucky remained alert, peering out the window into the farmland giving way to the jungle beyond.

The SUV shuddered its way along the latest stretch of uneven ground when Cobra brought it to a stop and switched off the engine, letting it spit and hiss as it cooled in the tropical air.

“Ignoring your problems doesn’t make them go away,” he said abruptly, and Bucky started at the sudden intrusion of sound into the quiet cabin.

“Not ignoring anything. Studying the terrain,” Bucky shot back, and returned his attention to the world outside the vehicle.

“Got another thirty-seven minutes before the little fella is due to make an appearance. Plenty of time to talk.”

“Since when do you talk?”

“Since Lilo informed me I was a stupidhead for not knocking some sense into your post-brainwashed skull.”

“Has a lot of opinions, that Lilo.”

“You have no idea.”

“Still, my personal life is none of her business. Or yours.”

“Hah. Think that’s gonna stop her? That child is the experiment-whisperer. She took down 626 different experiments created by Jumba – found a forever home for every last one of them. I never thought she’d get the first one under control. So, yeah, don’t make assumptions about Lilo Pelekai, Sergeant.”

Bucky stared out the front window for a long, silent moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Why does Lilo think you’re a stupidhead?”

“Because I haven’t locked you and Captain Rogers in a small space with only enough room to kiss each other senseless.”

“We’re super soldiers and we run hot. That would get awfully uncomfortable, awfully fast. Besides, unless you order the room specially built out of vibranium from Wakanda, pretty sure the two of us could break out, no sweat.”

“The idea is that you’d be too distracted by kissing each other to notice. Or choose to escape.”

“It’s a nice dream,” Bucky sighed, turning his head to look out his window. The jungle, alive and vibrating with life and vitality, looked back. Also a small mammal with big eyes and a long tail. Then it scurried up a palm tree and disappeared into the canopy above.

“Why do you think it’s just a dream?”

“Because, in case no one has noticed for the past 100 years or so, Steve ‘I’m a pillar of society’ Rogers is straight. Like, rulers can be built off him straight. The whole Peggy Carter thing? Yeah, the air around those two dripped with sexual tension. He even dated her niece for a while until the ick factor got too much for both of them. He has a thing for Carter women. Kinda expect he’ll check out the next generation when it’s their turn, to be honest. Still gonna be icky, but maybe not so bad. Maybe it won’t bother me so much by then. But the operative word there? Women, not me.”

“Maybe it’s not women that attract him. Maybe he’s trying to get someone else’s attention.”

“Look, if you’re suggesting that Steve bats for any team but the straight one, think again. I may be hopelessly queer, but Steve has a shot at happiness one day.”

“What makes you think _you_ don’t?”

Bucky was silent for a moment, and then he spluttered, “Look, time’s runnin’ out – let’s get the bike out and ready to roll when your little critter comes through, okay? And don’t worry about my love life – I sure as hell don’t.”

“Hmmmmm.”

&&&

The bike was prepped and in position just in time for Bucky to hear the telltale booms of approaching small-scale explosions. He was geared and hunkered down over the purring engine with Target lobbed its tiny explosives into the clearing, and raced through the ensuing smoke. Bucky was right behind it.

The bike handled perfectly, banking when he nudged the fuselage with his knee, roaring up when he tugged lightly on the handlebars, dropping to a stealthy purr when he downshifted. The seat was a miracle, molding to his body and giving where he need flexibility, holding firm where he needed support. 

He was gonna have to introduce Fitz to Jumba, and double-quick. They needed a frigging fleet of these babies! And a flying car for Steve, the little punk. With more leg room, enough for two. Because there was no way he was missing the look on Steve’s face the first time he got to drive a flying car. They both owed it to the memory of Howard Stark to buzz Stark Junior’s tower with a flying car, _tout suite_.

But he was distracting himself from the mission at hand. Target was still on the move, as expected. His path wasn’t exactly a straight line trajectory around the island, which deviated from Team Weird’s assessment of his habits. Then again, the intel had been anecdotal, not precise. Bucky was glad he’d opted to shadow the little fucker, because he was already starting to mistrust the intel he’d been provided.

Bucky held back while Target did a circuit around a stand of trees, circling them like a raceway, only at higher speed. It continued to launch little explosives into the air around it, forming a smokey ring around the trees that half obscured it from view. It was while it was cycling around the trees that Bucky noticed the air crackled around the little guy, like it was generating electricity with his motion. He vaguely remembered there was a cousin who did just that, so he supposed that some of them probably shared elements of abilities. The air was full of the scent of ozone and smoke as Target wound round and round the trees. Bucky glanced down and noted a groove cut into the ground below where Target ran, a deepening fissure worn down by his repeated passage. It was several inches deep now, indicating this was a normal part of its routine beyond just today.

As though a switch had been thrown, Target suddenly veered off, back on its original course around the island, explosions popping ahead of it, electricity crackling behind. The bike hummed to life smoothly under Bucky’s hands, and he was in motion again.

They’d been traveling this side of the island for a couple of hours when dusk started to settle, velvety and soft, casting shadows and gloom where there’d been light and life just a short while ago. The electrical output from Target’s movements became more visible, blue sparks striking and exploding like tiny fireworks. It seemed like they weren’t reaching as high and as far as earlier in the day, but Bucky hadn’t specifically measured, so that was just a feeling rather than observable fact. As the darkness settled, he opted for night vision lenses rather than turning on the bike’s lights. Thumbing the lenses on, he found he could see just as clearly as he’d been able to see under full sun, and now he had the benefit of additional diagnostics and data.

“Hmm, I’ll have to see if Jumba can adapt these for sunglasses, too,” Bucky muttered to himself as he tightened his knees to bring the bike into a tight turn.

They continued to travel for a couple more hours, until full dark gave way to a breathtaking array of stars overhead.

And now that he was capturing data, Bucky confirmed that the volume of the sparks had diminished considerably over the past hour, and Target’s speed was starting to drop off.

It was tiring, Bucky realized.

They were also approaching the edges of civilization again. In fact, they were growing closer to Kokaua Town. A small bit of light pollution rose in a haze over the area, not so much a sprawl as a village that stretched its limbs and relaxed into the terrain, houses settled in place with space between them, breathing room amongst neighbors. 

They were moving sedately down one of the country lanes now, a shell-packed track that meandered along the contour of the ground, smaller paths running off toward individual homes.

Homes that apparently had some meaning for Target, because it came to a stop at the crest of a small hill overlooking one of the homes, a long, low building with twinkling fairy lights and a lanai that stretched the length of the house, perfectly positioned to catch the evening breeze that tickled the wind chimes, jostled the palm fronds, and danced across the lawn.

The little creature settled in, sitting there on the hill, its little arms resting crossed over its drawn up knees, as it stared wistfully toward the house.

Bucky could see movement inside, a family readying for bed. A mother. A father. A teenager. A small dog barking excitedly. And a smaller child who leaned out its window, head resting on crossed arms, as it stared out into the night. Bucky’s eyes shifted back toward Target and he saw that the creature’s position offered a direct line of sight to the child’s window, while the brush obscured it from the child’s view.

His gut told him that Target wasn’t moving for a while, so he thumbed off the bike and slid out of the seat to drop to the ground. He pulled out his phone and texted Cobra his coordinates.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when Cobra texted back a few minutes later that he was at the coordinates of Target’s One True Family.

The creature’s loneliness was palpable as he settled in to wait, a hypothesis forming as the hours stretched on toward morning.

&&&

Bucky might’ve made some questionable purchases in the wee hours of the morning, as boredom stretched on during his pre-dawn vigil with Target. What the hell – a guy could always use more boxers, and, hey, Minions!

The sky started to lighten, black melting into dark blue, blending into purple and red tinged with gold. The air started to warm, and the stars started to fade. As the sliver of sun peeked over the horizon, Bucky’s attention was riveted on Target, who’d suddenly stood, rigid and trembling. The first rays exploded into the morning, and the golden light lanced across the landscape, touching Target along its legs. It started to vibrate.

The sun rose higher, more light spilling into the gloom now, and more of Target was bathed in sunlight. Still he vibrated, and now Bucky could hear the low drone of a sound coming from the little creature. A whine … no, a whimper. It was as though Target were crying as the sun scaled the sky and its vibration grew more intense.

And suddenly, its arms flung out and its head threw back, and it opened its mouth with a mournful howl.

And abruptly it fell silent, energy crackling all around it, and it was in motion again.

And Bucky leapt onto the bike, already moving forward as Target raced down the embankment and back to the main road.

&&&

Bucky slipped quietly into the room, and was relieved to see the curtains still drawn and the room still in darkness. He’d texted his observations to Jumba and Cobra while he’d sat in the lobby enjoying a restorative glass of fruit juice, but now the sugar was wearing off, and he could feel his limbs growing heavier by the moment. Even super soldiers had limits, and Bucky had been running, mostly on adrenalin, for more than 24 hours. Sleep was what he needed, at least a few hours, and he’d be ready to go again. If Jumba could come through with the tech he requested, he knew he’d be wrapping up the op within the next 24 hours.

But now, bed. He left his phone on the table by the door, along with his room key, and moved cautiously into the room. He still had the IR lenses on, so he could see his way to the bed, where Steve slumbered silently. He stood there a moment, watching him through the night vision lenses, marveling once again at the steady rise and fall, the smooth movement of his chest, the unencumbered breaths, the regular heartbeat. After everything that had happened, to see Steve healthy, whole, and living in this amazing future with aliens living among them, and flying cars and motorcycles … it was moments like this that Bucky felt he needed to count his blessings. He wasn’t going to have to count sheep, because he was bone tired. Slipping off the goggles and letting them fall silently to the carpeted floor, he climbed carefully onto the bed and dropped face first into his pillow. He was asleep within seconds. 

He might not remember them when he awoke, but his dreams were filled with flying vehicles, lonely aliens, and ocean-blue eyes smiling at him. He smiled back.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you checked out my Cap RBB stories yet? If not, go, read, let me know what you think. It was my first experience doing a reverse bang, and oh, what an incredible experience it was. I've already signed up for next year. I did drop out of the Stucky Big Bang, though. Which is how I've been able to work on this instead! 
> 
> Check out
> 
>   * [The New Cold War](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10918617) \- inspired by the art of Orithe 
>   * [Sepia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11365284) \- inspired by the art of Cryo_Bucky 
> 

> 
> And check out [Christmas on Stark Mountain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9063967), which I've just completed. I also posted a new chapter of [By Royal Decree](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9262823) this week, and I'm hoping to get to several of my other WIPs in the near future.
> 
> And hey, August 1, 2017, I'm starting a Patreon. I'll include discussions of my fic, development of my art, design of my Pops, sculptures, and more. Patron rewards will range from access to images of finished works, to input to designs, to earning custom Pops.
> 
> Pass it on. I'm ridiculously excited about the possibilities! I'll post the link here when it goes live.


	9. Lock and Load

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn a little of Steve's perspective at last, and find out just what's going on with Target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... progress!
> 
> I was actually surprised that no one got what was going on with Target, as I'd tried to make it obvious. But if you didn't follow Lilo and Stitch the Series, you might not realize that all of the experiments went to loving homes - homes they loved as much as they were loved. So of course, Target would do all that he could to protect his family, even if it meant protecting them from himself.
> 
> Sound like someone else we know?

Steve woke up and stretched, starting when his hand hit a body. His eyes snapped open and he looked over to see Bucky dead to the world, still fully dressed in his tac suit. He was lying on his side, facing Steve, his fists drawn up under his chin, his breath whistling softly through parted lips. A cute little rivulet of drool pooled on his pillow, and Steve had to fight back the urge to lean forward and smooth back the unruly bedhead, let his touch linger, perhaps drift a bit, feel that soft skin, that luxurious hair …

Instead, he settled back into his pillow and smiled, letting himself just look. 

He wasn’t really sure what was going on with his best friend. Bucky seemed intent on avoiding him, putting as much space as he could between them, space that had never been there before. Not before this op, the one-eyed alien, and that kiss. That fucking kiss that had Steve swelling in his boxers even as he started building walls of ice in his head to quell the desire that licked hot in his gut. He’d thought that maybe, finally, Bucky felt the same way, that Steve could finally admit how he felt and they could maybe take the first steps toward being real boyfriends, not just a show to convince a lovestruck Pleakley that Buck was off the market.

He was so afraid that he’d gone too far, being so eager to accept the starring role of boyfriend, and that maybe, just maybe, he’d let a little too much of his want to spoil his performance.

Lots of maybes. Maybe he’d assumed too much.

_Because Steve Rogers definitely wanted Bucky Barnes._

It had dawned on him gradually in this strange future age. He’d always believed that Buck was the pinnacle of what a man could and should be – strong but kind, ambitious but fair, flirty but respectful. Bucky wasn’t a perfect man, nor a perfect soldier. But he was always a man who tried to do the right thing, and that made him aces in Steve’s book.

And all that Bucky had fought his way back from … well, Steve wasn’t sure if he’d’ve been able to do the same, and have a sense of humor about it all. Even if that humor was tinged with black, reeking of the gallows some days, Bucky still found cause for humor. Steve’d’ve been more likely to sock it in the nose rather than tweak it, grimly bull through until he won the day. He thanked God and all the firmament that Bucky had not only survived it all, but had found his way back to his side. And while neither of them were the men they were before the War, he loved the Bucky he’d become with all that he was.

It wasn’t an apocalyptic revelation that not only did he love Bucky, but he was in love with Bucky. It was more a puzzle piece slotting comfortably into place, a sense of, “Yes, of course,” and a familiar warmth suffusing his body.

Steve wondered if he had always been in love with Bucky, but just hadn’t known what to call it before.

He knew now. He knew he loved Bucky, and wanted to spend the rest of his life making his old friend happy. And satisfied. And maybe a little horny now and again. And maybe even make him come again and again and again. He’d imagined what Bucky’s face looked like, flushed with desire and pleasure, panting his name while they … yes, ice. Piles and piles and piles of ice. What were those things Thor told him about? Ice giants. Yes. Ice giants playing baseball. 

Okay.

But now he worried that he’d pushed too far, too fast, and Bucky was running scared. That Bucky didn’t feel the same way as he did, could never feel the same way. And that Steve had somehow ruined the friendship of a lifetime.

_But that kiss._

Was Buck so good an actor he could pour all that passion into a kiss, and for it all be _fake_? Was there really no feeling lurking behind the slide of his lips, the deep-chested groan, the probe of his tongue? Could that really be just an act?

Bucky stirred slightly, shifting position, snuggling down into the pillow, half-smushing his face into as he groaned then snuffled. 

Steve smiled, feeling his chest simultaneously expand with light, and constrict with fear.

Please, don’t let this end before it begins, he thought to himself, a silent prayer to a God he still believed in, despite – or perhaps because of – all he’d seen. 

“Whatchu lookin’ at, punk?” Bucky slurred into the pillow with a delightful grumpiness, his voice rough and gravelly. Steve would be lying if he said that didn’t get his motor running in the most delicious way.

But he could play along. It was a game they’d been playing for nearly a century, give or take a few decades on ice. “Din’t think yer ugly mug could get any uglier, but think I might’a been wrong, jerk,” Steve answered fondly, letting the grin spread across his face.

Buck scrubbed his face into the pillow, then rubbed his nose with his knuckle before he propped his head up on one fist and glared at Steve through narrowed eyes. “Who you callin’ ugly, Rogers? Seem to remember a certain punk gettin’ his face rearranged on the regular, until his handsome friend came along to save his scrawny ass.”

And just when he feared they were losing themselves, there they were. “Handsome, huh? That’s how you saw yourself, jerk?”

“Didn’t you?” Bucky demanded with his eyebrow arched and fire in his eyes. A challenge, then.

Steve felt his heart thudding in his chest, fit to burst with anticipation that this, _this_ might be the moment when they finally admitted how they both felt, was opening his mouth to answer, “Yes, yes, yes, always and forever,” when Bucky ducked his head back against the pillow, burying the blush that bloomed across his face.

“Ah, fuck you, lemme sleep,” Bucky muttered into the pillow, and Steve felt his chest tighten with pain and disappointment as Bucky waved him off and pointedly rolled over, effectively turning his back on him and killing the moment.

“Late night?” Steve asked softly, his voice dulled and deadened, sounding as suddenly wretched as he felt even to Steve. Steve remembered what late nights could be for the Bucky Barnes of Brooklyn – dancing, dames, and a dram or three. But the Bucky of today? As close as they were, there were things that Steve didn’t know about Buck, spaces in his life where he just didn’t intersect. Places where he feared he might not fit.

Bucky lifted his head, half-turned like he heard something he didn’t like, but after a moment, he shrugged. Over his shoulder, he answered, “Tracked the little fucker ‘til dawn. Reported in to the mad scientist. Got a meet after noon to go over strategy – so can I please have some shuteye in the meantime, Captain, _sir_?”

Of course. Bucky had been on mission. Clearly, all these years later, it was Steve who still carried all the stupid. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize. You shoulda woke me when you got in –“

“Why, so both of us could be cross-eyed tired? Just let me catch a coupla hours, I’ll be good as new,” Buck told him, rolling back toward the wall.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna … I’m gonna go take a run, then hop in the shower. I’ll leave you to it, okay?”

“Yeah, tha’s great, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled as sleep overtook him again.

_Stevie?_

Steve’s hopes flared to life again. He was really going to have to corner Buck sometime soon and talk this out. Serum or no, he wasn’t sure his heart could take the ups and downs like this much longer!

&&&

Noon found both Steve “Who Needs Sleep I’m Always Beautiful” and Bucky – nursing fragrant and potent local coffee like it might actually do something for him – waiting for Cobra to pull up so they could get on with the day.

“Heard you picked up some useful intel,” Cobra observed as they clambered into the SUV.

“Yep,” Bucky agreed, drawing out the popped “p” with relish.

“Care to share?”

“With the whole class, Mr. Bubbles. With the whole class.” Steve “I’m a Super Hero but I’m Also a Dork” giggled in the back seat. _Fucking giggled_. Bucky filed the image of the hunky object of his every wet dream since puberty giggling his fool ass off, and smiled to himself behind his sunglasses.

“You shared with Jumba,” Cobra grumbled.

“Because he needs to build me some tech so I can finish up this op,” Bucky explained reasonably. He pulled off the glasses and waved them for emphasis. “Not bad, but I need more if I’m gonna pull this off tonight. And I _can_ pull it off tonight. Because I am _that_ good, Mr. B,” he added, sliding down in his seat and crossing his feet at the ankles up on the dash.

“Feet off the dash,” Cobra commanded in a voice that allowed no quarter. Bucky felt a frisson of muscle memory, a flash of Asset response, but he tamped it down and gritted his teeth, taking care to slowly and insolently uncross his ankles and lower his feet. He complied … but with attitude.

And fuck his life, Rogers was snickering in the backseat, and Bucky had to tamp down the urge to punch the snot out of him, one blow and it’s done. But there was the whole thing about defiling a national hero … and if he was going to be doing any defiling, he’d prefer it not involve broken noses and be in the privacy of a space the contained a bed or other welcoming horizontal surface. Although, up against the wall had its attractions …

And yeah, let’s think about ice, puppies, John Phillip Sousa, and the Pledge of Allegiance to put that inappropriate boner in its place, right out of mind and body. “We there yet?” Bucky asked, his voice strangled and weird-sounding even to his own ears.

“Shoulda gone before we left, Buck,” Steve chuckled behind him, and Bucky felt the plates in his cybernetic hand grind into a fist – and was grateful for the distraction.

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, Spangles,” Bucky muttered under his breath, but secretly, he was pleased.

&&&

“Come, I show you latest evil genius invention!” Jumba greeted them as soon as Cobra pulled into the carport.

“Enough with the evil, Jumba! You’ve turned a new leaf, remember?” Pleakley scolded him, hurrying along as fast as its three legs could carry it. Bucky was right – the legs could move fast, but they were clumsy and unwieldy on any terrain that wasn’t entirely smooth. “Really, he’s such a card, don’t you know?” Pleakley simpered over its shoulder at Bucky, who edged closer to Steve “A Promise is a Promise No Matter How Dumb,” who in turn took his cue to slide his arm around Bucky’s waist. 

Biting his lip, Bucky let out a carefully measured breath and nodded faintly to himself before allowing his arm to slip naturally around Steve’s waist, earning him a beaming smile that threatened to melt him into sexually frustrated puddle of goop on the spot. He returned a tight-lipped smile back, which in turn earned him a slight frown from Steve. Bucky scotched any inquiry with a pointed waggle of his eyebrows toward the monocular one, and the tension in Steve’s face seemed to ease. The quirk of Bucky’s lips in response was more natural, more comfortable, and the strangeness between them seemed to dissipate for the moment.

Ahead of them, Jumba was grumbling back to Pleakley, and if Bucky had to guess, his transition from evil genius to not so evil genius had not been voluntary. Well, so long as he provided him with a flying motorcycle, the tech he required, and outfitted Steve with a flying car they could take home with him, let him go full-on evil once in a while. The look in Steve’s eyes when he put a flying car in gear would be worth it. 

Pleakley fluttered impotently around Jumba as he rejected all of the alien’s cajolery, forging ahead like a large, undomesticated living tank toward his workshop that stood a short distance away from the house. “Welcome for to my auxiliary lab, Soldier of Winter and Captain of America. This is where I make the fun stuff!” he announced with his arms flung wide and all foureyes gleaming.

“He means his ‘splodey lab,” Pleakley groused loudly. “Don’t blame me if you don’t have the same number of limbs when you come out. Or heads!” 

Lilo and Stitch both chose that moment to drop down from the ceiling where they’d been hanging from a ceiling strut, effectively making both Bucky and Steve “Nerves of Steel, Bladder of Steelwool” jump back with manly shrieks.

“He makes things go boom,” Lilo said sotto voce. “It’s fun!” she added with more enthusiasm, reaching grabby hands toward Bucky so he’d reach up and pull her onto his shoulders where she proceeded to “drive” him by pulling on his hair. Now, there’s a reason Bucky has long hair, and it may have something to do with hypothetical hair pulling he lives in hope of enjoying with a certain tall, blond, and patriotic fella, but having a small, boisterous and quite possibly dangerous tween yanking on his locks? Not anywhere on his top ten, one hundred, or even one thousand list of favorite things to do.

So Bucky did the heroic thing and didn’t say a word. Lilo scared him a little, as did her doggy-like companion, Stitch, who’d dropped from the ceiling and hit the floor curled up in a perfect ball, rolled across the room, and then straightened out, pulling his feet from his mouth before he clambered up the wall of the room. Without handholds. He looked at Bucky and grinned widely, revealing a truly impressive number of teeth. “Gabba,” Stitch agreed sagely, and Bucky decided for now, he’d agree too. 

“Well, Buck here likes to make things go boom,” Steve offered with a shit-eating grin of his own.

“I’m not about the boom. Too random. I’m all about the precision hit,” Bucky corrected, reaching up and covering Lilo’s hands with his own. Maybe some sign of affection would deter her from scalping him alive. No dice – she swatted his hands away and dug in tighter. He was gonna have a helluva headache by the time this op was done.

“So what’ve y’got to show me, Jumba?” he asked, hoping he could bring some sense to this chaos.

“I, too, would like to know what Dr. Jookiba has been working on. As he’s aware, there are still Galactic Federation sanctions in place,” Cobra said suddenly from behind them. Shit, Bucky had forgotten all about Fury’s scarier cousin.

“I have merely responded to Sergeant Barnes’s requests. He has discovered something none of us knew, and it is key to restoring Target to his ohanaed state.”

“You can fix Target?” Lilo demanded from Bucky’s shoulders. “Really?”

“Really. I shadowed him last night, stuck with him until just after sun-up.”

“Ah, no wonder you were so tired this morning,” Steve breathed.

“Yeah. But what I saw … well, there’s more of the little guy left than you realized.”

“Explain,” Cobra ordered.

“Sergeant Barnes here believes that he’s traversing the island and setting off aerial explosives as a way to burn off energy.”

“Energy he gets from the sun,” Bucky inserted.

“So he’s solar powered?”

“His powers are solar powered. I should have realized this before. I would smack my forehead, but I already did that this morning, and it is still aching my head.”

“So, you travelled the island all night, Buck?”

“No. He eventually fizzled out. And then he settled in until the sun came up, and his powers got super-charged by the sun.”

“His bad meter filled up again. But he can be good!” Lilo announced, and she chose that moment to flip off Bucky’s shoulder and dive bomb toward the floor. He caught her before she hit and let her do another, smaller and less likely to be damaging flip down to the floor. She was practically dancing a jig in excitement. “So we can fix him!”

“What was he doing when he fizzled out?”

“Keeping watch. Guarding. He timed the dissipation of energy to take him to a specific house, and he sat up for the rest of the night, just watching over the house. I sent Jumba the coordinates and he confirmed it’s a known location.”

“His ohana,” Lilo breathed, awestruck.

“Yes. His family,” Jumba agreed, nodding sadly.

Bucky picked up the narrative. “He’s too dangerous to them when he’s charged. So he runs around the island to burn it off, and then when he’s depleted, he sits and watches over them. And then he leaves when he becomes dangerous again.”

Truth be told, Bucky was feeling a strange kinship to the little experiment. He remembered what he was like after Hydra conditioning began to break down. Feral, unable to trust his own perceptions or memories, running and hiding from Steve and his birdboy pal, Wilson. But always lurking, trying to catch a glimpse of the golden-haired boy who’d stolen his heart so many years ago. Staying far enough away to ensure his safety, but close enough to watch over him, to protect him if need be.

Yeah, this op was really starting to hit home in unexpected ways. Ways he wasn’t really prepared to face up to. He glanced over at Steve “I May Look Butch But I’m an Old Softie,” and was rewarded with a tremulous smile and a hand dashing away the tears, while the other one sought out Bucky’s hand and squeezed. Then didn’t let go, instead threaded his fingers with Bucky’s and squeezed again, this time gently, encouragingly.

Bucky had to admit that he liked it. Liked the contact, but also liked the energy that seemed to flow between them. Liked being close enough to feel the heat emanating from his serum-fueled friend. Liked feeling like they fit together as more than best friends since childhood. He was greedy and he was going to take all he could get of that, because surely as soon as they went up the stairs to get in that plane to head home, it would all fall away. And Bucky would have to get used to existing as just Bucky, not a part of a couple, no matter how much he might want otherwise.

“So Target is really still good inside, it’s the charge that’s making him bad!” Lilo exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement.

“Jumba fix cousin?” Stitch asked hopefully from his perch on the wall.

“Jumba fix cousin,” the alien genius confirmed with a terse nod, ignoring the moisture collecting in the corners of all his eyes.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to be thrilled with the response that this story has gotten. My head canon is irrevocably locked on Cobra Bubbles is Nick Fury's cousin, that Bucky and Stitch would make an awesome team, and Steve plays the ukulele, just like Chris Evans does. And that Lilo Pelakai would rule the world if she were real. Then maybe she'd go to high school.
> 
> We do have a few more chapters to go, including one I'm working on right now and hope to post this weekend, along with some art (!) and the link to my new Patreon.
> 
> In the meantime, i hope you enjoy, and if you get a chance, drop me a comment. Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Target Acquired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which summer fun is had leading up to the op, and then ... the op.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm working on art to go with this chapter. I posted a rough sketch on my social media and Patreon last night, but today at work, i had a different idea that I love a whole lot more. So I'm working on a completely different design, and hope to debut it shortly.

Upon learning that Target could in fact be restored to his loving self, and be returned to his One True Place, Lilo immediately started planning a hula that she announced she would be performing that night, with Bucky’s help. She’d allow Steve to play the ukulele, if he was good.

This left Steve “I’m a Captain Now” gaping and gasping at the temerity of the kid – really, now, Steve, get a grip. She’s totally gonna rule the world someday. We’re just here to serve her majesty’s whims. But when Nani found out about the escalating entertainment, and the op, she insisted that everyone get an early night and a good rest.

“Why? Lilo demanded, still intent on performing her groundbreaking hula.

“Because everyone is going to have to get up really early to catch Target before the sun comes up.”

“Get up … oh, yeah. We don’t have to stay up all night, right,” Bucky realized, snapping his metal fingers. Lilo was immediately entranced.

“Do that again.”

“What?”

“Snap your metal fingers. The sound they make is _awesome_.”

Bucky stared, slack-jawed, at the little girl who was examining his cybernetic hand with such enthusiastic reverence. “Awesome?” he repeated in a choked-off whisper.

“Yeah! It’s like music, only better!” Lilo told him, her attention focused on the smooth plates of his fingers, the tiny, sealed gaps in between where the plates shifted back and forth in mimicry of actual human digits.

“Can I?” she asked, staring up at him hopefully.

“Can you what?”

“Record your finger music.”

“Record my … Lilo, this is a weapon,” he nodded toward his hand, and the arm it was attached to.

Lilo held up his hand, splaying the fingers so she could look up at him through them. “Sergeant Barnes, this is super-amazingly awesome.”

“Lilo, give the nice Sergeant his hand back,” Nani prodded gently.

“Why do you think it’s awesome?”

“Because it was designed to be a weapon, but you can do amazing things with it, like make music with your fingertips. And I’ll bet it’s really useful building sandcastles,” she singsonged with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

By now, Steve “Kiss the babies and make their moms cry” was snickering and giggling and generally making a public nuisance of himself. “She’s got your number, Buck!”

Now, Bucky knew for certain that there was no public record of his tenure as king of the sand castle at Coney Island from 1938 to 1942 – an honor bestowed on him by the buffoon yukking it up beside him. He remembered loving the feeling of the fine white sand between his fingers, the joy of molding it into fantastic shapes and gravity-defying structures. The cybernetic hand didn’t have much in the way of feeling, just gross sensations such as pressure and temperature. But it had been a very long time indeed since his right hand had built something out of something so small as a grain of sand.

“You’re on. ‘Cept we need a competition. How about you, me, and Stitch. Up against Steve, Pleakley, and Nani?”

Snickering gave way to spluttering as Steve “Hoisted by my Own Petard” Rogers realized what Bucky had just committed him to. Steve might be the artist of the two, but Bucky worked better in three dimensions. Steve’s sandcastles had always been notoriously lopsided and structurally unsound. One had actually stood tall for a whole ten minutes before it collapsed in on itself into a misshapen pile of wet sand.

The grin that Bucky turned on Steve was, he knew, shark-like. Because Spangles McPainintheAss was going down, Coney Island style!

&&&

Lilo recorded the sound Bucky’s fingers snapping for about a half hour, making him snap different rhythms, speeds, even heights. She made him snap his flesh fingers in counterpoint, and then she made him drum the metal fingers on different surfaces. Finally she was satisfied, beaming with delight at her new toy.

“What’re you gonna do with the recordings?”

“Make music, of course. I’ll send you a demo,” she promised loftily, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle. “Maybe I’ll send you something to woo with.”

“Woo?”

She glanced over at where Steve sat with Nani, joking and laughing, and arched her eyebrows meaningfully. “Woo,” Lilo repeated, and it sounded like an order.

“Um, how about that sandcastle building contest? We should get started.”

“Woo-hoo!” she cried, and they were off again.

&&&

Lilo and Stitch turned out to be every bit as competitive as Bucky and Steve “I Never Met a Challenge I Didn’t Punch in the Nose,” and the sandcastles quickly escalated in complexity and size. Nani wasn’t above taking advantage of Steve’s superior strength, having him scoop wet sand into large and larger containers so that their castle grew rapidly into a towered and turreted behemoth, while Pleakley ran around trying to be a cheerleader, and managed to trip Steve every other pass. 

David had wandered over after finding a note tacked to the front door of the house, and he mentioned strange noises and odd colored smoke coming from Jumba’s workshop.

“Should I be worried?” Nani asked Cobra, who sat in Buddha-like serenity in a umbrellaed deck chair, overlooking the proceedings.

“It’s Jumba,” Cobra replied cryptically.

“So … is that a yes, or a no?” David asked quizzically.

One large shoulder lifted and fell, but Cobra didn’t budge otherwise.

“Well, if Cobra’s not worried, neither am I,” David concluded finally, and dropped down into a lotus position next to Nani. “What can I do to help?”

“Take Pleakley’s place. He’s gonna kill Steve if he trips him one more time.”

“Pleakley, don’t murder the nice Captain. We still need him,” Cobra intoned in a voice that seemed to vibrate on the air.

“But, if he – er, I’m not trying to kill anyone!” Pleakley cried indignantly, confirmed for all convened that it really was trying to put Steve out of commission.

“That’s okay, Pleakley,” Steve “I’m Always Polite to Women and Children and Everything in Between” said to it, patting it fondly on the top of its bulbous head. “I’m pretty hard to kill. Almost impossible, some think,” he added with a shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, if pneumonia and scarlet fever didn’t take you out back in the ‘30s, a trip in the sand ain’t gonna do nothing,” Bucky agreed, carefully carving the pointed apex of a window into a sand cylinder before gingerly slotting it in place on top of a tower. Stitch took the peaked roof of the tower room between two delicately positioned claws, and deftly dropped the roof in place.

Everyone paused to stare. Bucky, Stitch, and Lilo had been going for intricate and complex, with multiple levels, many tiny staircases spiraling up the sides of towers, grand spaces and tiny turrets. The effect was both impressive and delightful, a fairyland castle fit for royalty. Bucky settled back on his heels and blinked innocently while Steve just stared.

“Shit,” Steve breathed, standing there looking, well, lickably good, in his board shorts and tank, his long, golden legs stretching for miles as his bare toes squished into the damp sand. A faint dusting of freckles had appeared on his fine Irish skin, a reminder of who he’d once been, a lifetime ago. He might look like he was burning, but the serum would put that to rights before any real damage was done.

“Looks good, huh? Watch this,” Bucky answered cheekily, nodding toward Stitch.

From somewhere he didn’t want to think about, Stitch whipped out a bulbous looking raygun, took a hop and a step back, and blasted their creation with a sustained burst. When the lights sparking on the backs of their eyelids faded, and the sublimation vapor drifted away, they were all looking at a glittering structure made of fused glass.

“It’s beautiful,” Lilo purred. “You’re my favorite assassin,” she added dreamily, planting a sticky kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

“That’s cheating!” Nani insisted. “It’s not a sandcastle anymore – it’s a glasscastle!  
  


“It’s a castle made of superheated _sand_. It counts,” Bucky answered, and stuck out his tongue for emphasis.

The melee escalated, with Nani shouting foul, while David simply supported her, and Lilo crying out that they just enhanced the raw materials a bit for effect, with Stitch jumping up and down waving his weapon (Bucky saw him flick the safety on and drop out the charge cartridge first, so no worries there). Bucky just sat there enjoying his handiwork, and finally, Steve dropped into the sand beside him, knocking his shoulder against Bucky’s. 

“Coney Island Sandcastle King strikes again. It’s a beauty, Buck.”

“Yeah, it is. This king has yet to be dethroned,” Bucky preened. Like Steve, he’d skinned down to his skivvies, and was happy he was sitting on a towel instead of on the sand where he’d fill his board shorts and then some. Like Steve, he’d opted for a tank, too. He’d more or less come to terms with the arm, and the scarring around it, and by now, Steve had seen it often enough to not flinch – much – when he saw it on display. He probably would never get over the lingering sense of guilt for not going back for Bucky that impossible day in the Alps. It was all part of their current normal, so Bucky had decided that was just not something he was going to let stop him from having a nice day at the beach.

Nani had made tsking noises about sunscreen at the sight of the scars, and Lilo had begged to be able to touch the arm – and the scars, too. Stitch? Stitch had done this odd little thing where he pressed one blue fist against his heart and bowed solemnly at Bucky, and Bucky had been inordinately touched by the gesture. He returned it with due ceremony, and was rewarded by a huge grin from Stitch, followed by a brief – and bone crushing! – hug before he scampered away. Bucky found himself becoming steadily more curious about the little blue alien, and felt that his story was one worth hearing.

Steve balanced himself on his fists resting in the sand behind him, and shifted so he could lean in closer to say something when Cobra shouted out, “Enough! Barnes wins. Take a picture. Now what about dinner?”

&&&

After the winners posed with their creation, and several pictures were taken using different phones and cameras – apparently Lilo was a camera buff – Bucky and Steve had loaded the glass sand castle onto the hover board. Then they brought it back to the house, where Lilo insisted they install it in the “courtyard” in front of the house (that scrubby space that was neither paved nor landscaped). Temporarily satisfied with the grandeur of its location, she then toddled off to put her order in with Jumba to create a rotating display plinth and dedicated spotlights for her new toy. No one was surprised to find her trotting back to the house a few moments later with a wild grin, and a promise that Jumba was nearly ready with everything they’d need to bring Target home.

Dinner was pizza delivered from town, with nary a speck of pineapple to be seen. “That’s a _lolo_ thing. We don’t desecrate pizza like that,” Nani explained, then stopped, mouth hanging open, as Stitch and Lilo poured hot sauce and slathered peanut butter on their respective slices. “Never mind,” she muttered, a dusky rose darkening her cheeks as she bent her head over her food. “At least Pleakley and Jumba are eating in the ‘splodey lab.”

“Lilo is a bit of a gourmand,” David said lightly. “We never know what she’s gonna try.”

“And Stitch sticks his feet in his mouth to roll around,” Nani said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, this one used’ta eat dirt,” Bucky chuckled, hooking a thumb toward “Tall, Blond, and Scrumptious.”

“That’s only because a certain someone told me it contained minerals that would help me get big and strong. I wonder who that might’ve been, jerk?”

“Might’a been somebody with your best interests in mind, punk. Word that day was that Gus Schnabel was itchin’ to punch your lights out for reporting him to Sister John Aloysius for inkin’ MaryLou Krause’s pigtails. He never thought to look for you out in the weeds.”

“Laugh it up, asshole. You know I had an allergic reaction to those weeds and it put me out of school for a week. Ma had to buy my weight in calamine.”

“Mission accomplished,” Bucky grinned back at him. “Gus got himself suspended for a whole different reason while you were out.”

“Can’t believe of all the things, that’s the kinda crap you remember.”

“Some things are worth rememberin’, Stevie,” Bucky blurted before he could engage his filter, and darted a worried look toward Steve, who simply frowned for a second before his face relaxed into a wide smile.

“Yeah, they are,“ was all he said in response, then went back to eating his pizza, folded of course, point first. Bucky allowed himself a moment to watch Steve thread his tongue through a gooey strand of mozzarella that threatened to slide onto his broad, t-shirt straining chest. Then he shook himself, thinking furiously of ice, ice, baby, before he dove into his own slice.

&&&

Sure enough, after dinner, Jumba unveiled the full kit for the op. Solar shield to cut Target off from the harmful solar recharge and to transport him back to the Pelakai’s for repair, even more souped up space cycle for Bucky, and God love him, a full size flying car capable of ferrying both super-sized super-soldiers. Plus some relatively harmless weapons to take Target down if he got fractious.

“Shotgun!” Lilo cried as soon as she saw the flying car, and Stitch jumped up and down, too.

“Hmm, room for two more in the back. I like it,” Nani approved, arching an eyebrow at Steve “I’m So Happy I Could Cry.” 

He nodded back, then turned to Bucky. “Guess I’ve got my team, Buck. What about you?”

“Gonna be riding that beauty,” Bucky nodded at the bike. “And you’re gonna be watching my ass takin’ off on the straightaway.”

“Think so, huh? Hey, Jumba, how fast does this thing go?”

&&&

“Lilo, did you spray paint your pajamas black?”

“Maybe?”

“How come you didn’t just wear something dark from your closet?”

“I’m a Hawaiian living in Hawaii. We don’t believe in dark clothes. People already don’t see us, even in daylight.”

Sadly, he could see the truth in her words. The islands were swarming with tourists from all over the world, and yet few saw the Hawaiian people as anything more than quaint, a backdrop to their own grand adventures, props to make the experience feel more “authentic.” Few saw the actual people of the islands, the descendants of the great race that America had subjugated and swindled out of their heritage. “Hmm. So … you improvised. Clever and stylish.”

“I repurposed the materiel at my disposal, Sergeant,” she answered, waggling her left hand, revealing a silver glove pulled taut over her pudgy hand.

“And the silver glove?”

“Homage to my leader, sir!”

“You are her favorite assassin, after all,” Nani leaned in and chuckled. “Although I’m not entirely thrilled about the spray paint. That’ll never come out, you know, Lilo.”

“That’s all right, Nani. I need a ninja outfit anyway. This’ll do.”

“Nin –“ Nani started to protest, then paused thoughtfully. Then she smiled and shrugged. “You never know,” she agreed over her shoulder, and went back to finish making up their provisions. With the whole gang going on the op, snacks were in order. And juice boxes. Bucky had quickly developed a taste for papaya juice, and he planned to make Stark Junior import it just for him. He wasn’t sharing with Steve, nuh-uh, he was gonna have to get his own.

“Ninja, huh? See them often around here?”

“We’re a magnet for all kinds of weird. It pays to be prepared.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky said approvingly, and Lilo immediately snapped off a salute that Bucky happily returned. “At ease, soldier. We got a long and difficult op ahead of us. Stay loose, stay sharp, right?”

“Right, sir! Loosely sharp, sir!”

&&&

Full dark had fallen, and the sky was awash in star glow. The Kalanis, Target’s One True Ohana, were tucked in their beds, lights off, house silent save for the tinkling of the wind chimes hung in the lanai.

The night was quiet, and soft, the air fragrant and warm but not humid, the breeze gentle and caressing. Hidden in the terrain surrounding the land around the Kalani house rested one of the oddest collection of warriors Bucky had ever seen, and yet he felt a calm confidence that this was the right team for the job.

Jumba and his miraculous tech, hunkered down with his solar shield and the control unit, masked from the house by a stand of thick brush, while Cobra oversaw the operation. Apparently there were some kind of safeguards required by the Galactic Federation, and Jumba didn’t have a particularly good rep with them. Bucky was sure that when Target approached to take up his vigil, he would never notice Jumba lying in wait. Thankfully, they’d convinced Pleakley to stay behind, to “protect the house.” Really, it was because they needed silence, and Pleakley couldn’t comply if its life depended on it. Nani, David, Lilo, and Jumba had all been happy to provide examples, and when Cobra added one of his own to the mix, it was universally agreed, they needed to find Pleakley busy work so it wouldn’t feel left out.

So Pleakley was in charge of preparing Target’s transitional facility, an adapted kennel cage with all the comforts, where Jumba could hold him inside the shield, while he worked on curing Target of his supercharge.

Next among them was ninja-clad Lilo and her alien blue shadow, Stitch. Lilo was barely contained energy, as always, but Stitch … Stitch was tense, worried, anxious. Target was a cousin, an earlier experiment of Jumba’s. Stitch felt a kinship to each of the other experiments not unlike family. When a cousin was sad or lonely, Stitch echoed those feelings. He was surprisingly empathetic and caring.

Nearby, Nani and David waited patiently by the cooler where the snacks and juice boxes were housed. Depending on how long it took Target to discharge and feel comfortable, they could be here a while. Or, Jumba could trigger the shield, and they could call it a day. They had no way of knowing.

And then there was Steve, resting silently on his stomach, watching through his binoculars for Target’s approach.

“Just like the old days, huh?” he whispered at one point. With their super soldier hearing, both Steve and Bucky could hear speech that was well beyond the reach of normal ears. So they could converse in near silence, and no one would be the wiser.

“Old days? Seem to remember it was usually me watching your ass through a viewfinder. Don’t remember you using binoculars much.”

“Only to find you, usually. Always made me feel better knowing where you were.”

Huh. Ain’t that a kick in the head. “Yeah, ditto,” Bucky grunted back.

Then Steve was silent for a long moment, as though he was thinking about something. Bucky could hear the intake of breath just before he was going to speak, but then the tenor of the breath changed. “Coming in hot. On your six,” Steve reported, referencing the fact that Bucky was facing Target’s resting spot, not his approach. “Damn, he moves fast! You kept up with him on that bike? Damn, son, I wanna ride that!”

Okay, Bucky was really running out of mental diversions to keep inappropriate bloodflow in check. Fortunately, the imminent arrival of Target, aerial bombs popping with decreasing intensity, gave Bucky exactly the kind of distraction that was bulletproof.

He could feel himself sinking into the moment, instincts honed from childhood, starting with his Daisy BB gun, and segueing to his life as a sniper in the Army. Muscle memory took over as he shifted in place, dropping his chin down to bring his eye in alignment with the sight on his gun.

Ozone presaged Target’s arrival, and the telltale pop of his diminishing supply of explosives. And then he was there, standing on the mound, staring wistfully at the house. A few more pops, a puff of smoke or two, and he settled down on the grass, little arms wrapped around his knees as the energy crackled and spat for a few more minutes before bleeding off into the ground.

Then the clearing fell silent once more. Bucky could feel the zing of his hyper-alert state, his muscles ready to spring into action, his every sense stretched out, testing for anomalies, searching for clues, waiting for direction.

“Deploying shield … now,” Jumba said softly into the network. 

Suddenly the gossamer thin membrane of the shield catapulted through the air toward Target, opening up to form a dome over the little guy, the solid floor knitting itself together as soon as it touched down. Explosives erupted inside the dome, splashing light against the curved transparent surface. After a few minutes, no one could see into the dome through the smoke and flashing explosions. Not even Steve and Bucky.

Finally, after several minutes of panic explosions, they suddenly died off. When the smoke dissipated enough, they could see the still figure of Target, apparently passed out on the floor of the dome. Concussed by his own explosions? Worn out from expending too much energy without a proper recharge?

“Let’s get him back to the house,” Bucky announced, then tossed Steve his tranquilizer run, shot up, and ran toward the filmy dome. He bent down, scooped the dome into his arms, noted how warm it was, and how really light it was – Target was just a little guy after all, and with that bullseye on his little tushie, he was terminally cute, too. Cobra was already opening the hatch on the SUV and Bucky was able to slide Target, dome and all, into the back. Jumba had already pulled all his tech back into the SUV, and was getting into the front seat.

“Meet us back at the homestead,” Cobra barked, then pulled himself into the driver’s seat. Within the next heartbeat, the SUV was moving at speed down the track, back out to the highway.

Bucky wondered for a moment if it should feel anticlimactic, all that planning, all that worrying, all that tech. But thinking back to the sad, lonely little figure sitting on the hill, out of sight of the house, Bucky figured it was long past due. It was time to reunite Target’s ohana.

&&&

* * *

Bucky and Stitch - and Lilo - pose with their award-winning - yes, really, Steve, we won fair and square, you punk - sand-glass castle!

For more, come follow me on Tumblr at <http://debwalsh.tumblr.com/>! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are moments in this chapter that I absolutely adore. I think this may be my favorite chapter of this story, perhaps all of them.
> 
> Wow, and I'm blown away by all the comments lately. Thanks so much! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.


	11. One True Ohana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Target has been acquired, and now comes the reckoning.
> 
> In the meantime, Bucky finds himself identifying with the alien experiment more than he expected, and words of wisdom are delivered from an unlikely source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually done some sketches for this chapter that I need to finalize and share. I really kinda love the idea of Buck in a hula skirt ... oops, spoilers!

They kept Target shielded from the sun, so he couldn’t recharge from the sun, until the machine was ready to go.  At one point, Stitch let itself into the dome where Target waited, and announced he would wait with him, keep him company.  It surprised Bucky, how relieved he was.  How much he saw himself in the little alien experiment.  Target was stoic, but he could tell the little guy was frightened.  Surrounded by all this tech, Bucky felt fear and loathing bubbling beneath his skin, too.  And he knew – logically, at least – that none of this tech was here for him.  Target knew no such thing.

So it was a relief when Stitch looked at the dome tucked underneath a tarp, and announced, “Cousin,” with gravity and commitment. 

Lilo nodded gravely, scrubbing the heel of her hand against her cheek, smearing the trail of tears that had been forming without notice, without fanfare.  She was scared, too.  “You go, Stitch.  I’ll keep an eye on these bozos,” Lilo agreed solemnly.

Nani hid a giggle, a little hysterical, a little inappropriate perhaps,  behind her hand, but then straightened and nodded seriously at the little blue alien.  “You’re a good cousin, Stitch.”

He drew himself up and nodded emphatically once.  “Ohana.”  Then he touched a claw to an invisible control, and the dome revealed an entrance that Stitch quietly stepped through.  When he was in the dome, he reached out and folded Target into a fierce hug.

Bucky felt like he could use a hug of his own right then.  The sight of that little alien sitting forlornly on the hillside, watching over his family under the arc of stars above, was a sight that would never leave Bucky.  It was sad and hopeful and inspiring, and it hit a little too close to home.  He remembered sitting in the parapets of tall buildings around Steve’s apartment, watching over the dumb lug to make sure he didn’t kill himself too much.  And those boltholes were ideal for taking out agents who thought – knew! – they could get the drop on Steve “I’m so strong I never look over my big, broad shoulders” Rogers.

Maybe someday Bucky would clue him in on how many targets he took out in those days.  Maybe.  But not today.  Today it felt too newly raw again.

Damn feelings.

Bucky leaned across toward Nani and whispered, “Does it always do that?”

“He always takes care of his cousins.  Even though he was born on another planet, Stitch takes the idea of ohana as seriously as any native born Hawaiian.  Maybe even more,” Nani answered with a definite gloss of pride in her voice.

Bucky smiled slightly to himself, and settled back to wait, feeling a little more settled that Target had a friend, a cousin to look after him.  There was comfort in ceremony, in ritual.  In the simple reaching out to touch and hold.  Stitch had a way of surprising him.  Hell, they all did.

They were all draped around Jumba’s lab, and the big alien was puttering and tinkering, muttering and swearing (Bucky thought – the language was definitely not English) as he worked.  At least, Bucky assumed he was working and not just yanking all their chains with some cheap theatre.  Considering Cobra Bubbles stood there, arms locked over his chest and gaze riveted to Jumba’s every move, Bucky suspected the alien was doing his job, because no one would want to be on the wrong end of Nick Fury’s cousin’s temper.  _No one_.

Pleakley was uncomfortably close, sashaying up to Bucky to blink that one enormous eye, then slink off.  Bucky thought that maybe Pleakley was trying to be sexy, but instead it looked more like parts of Pleakley were trying to crawl out of its skin to get away from the other parts. 

Nani stifled a snort behind her hand, and pinched her nose to keep from laughing out loud.

“Pleakley’s got it bad for you,” she said softly, leaning toward Bucky’s right shoulder.  Pleakley took that moment to glance over its shoulder at Bucky, only to see Nani horning in on its man’s space, and that blinking eye turned thoroughly baleful.  “Uh-oh, I’ve made him mad.”

“Is Pleakley a he or a she?” Bucky whispered back urgently.

“No idea.  Pleakley seems to be either genderless or genderfluid.  I’ve never wanted to ask, but I do have to watch my make-up supplies around him.  And my dresses.  Sometimes my heels.”  Then her elbow intruded into his ribcage as Pleakley turned and swanned past, three-fingered hand dipping low, the other resting “seductively” on a non-existent hip.  The eyelashes batted at Bucky fast enough to create a breeze.

And suddenly, there was a wall of warm pressing up against his left side, a slab of a hand resting on his lower back, and a deep voice laced with humor saying, “Pleakley seems intent on stealing my best guy.  Can’t have that, Buck.”

Bucky swallowed hard and focused on cute fuzzy things – like Target, Stitch, and all of their cousins.  Anything to keep the blood from shooting south at the sound of that voice in his ear, and the feel of that breath against his neck.

Fortunately, at Experiment number 626, Stitch had a lot of cousins, so it was a reasonably distracting exercise.

“Any idea what he’s doing?” Steve the Walking Wall of Warm asked then, letting his hand fall away from Bucky’s back. 

It was only then that Bucky realized he’d gone rigid as soon as Steve had touched him there, and now he mourned the loss of that heat, that gentle touch. 

Well, hell.  As long as they had a part to play, he was going to play it to the hilt.  He might not get another chance.  He threaded his left arm through Steve’s right, and leaned in close.

“Not a fucking clue,” Bucky answered under his breath, making sure to let his lips ghost over Steve’s ear.  Steve responded with a gratifyingly convincing shiver, so Bucky let his lips linger, just a tad, once again.

Steve turned toward him then, a peculiar mix of emotions warring across his face.

Bucky felt panic welling up inside him, he’d gone too far, he’d revealed too much, he … he carefully removed his arm from where it was cradled against Steve’s, and shifted his weight to angle away, turning his face to look blindly at where Jumba worked.

But Steve “Anything for a Mission” caught his hand and enveloped it in his own.  He could sense pressure as Steve squeezed – reassuringly? And he could feel the heat of Steve’s blast-furnace body.  He quirked a small smile, and settled back, still staring toward Jumba.  He didn’t dare look toward Steve, afraid of what he’d see there.

“A-hah!” Jumba chose that moment to cry out, thrusting his thick arms up into the air.  “I have gotten it.  Six-two-six, you may bring experiment Two-Eighteen out.  Pleakley, shut that door!” he added, gesturing toward where Pleakley was lounging in the doorway, backlit by the sun streaming into the space.

“Geeze, Pleakley, the little devil’s fueled by sunlight – close that damned door!” Nani commanded.

“Ms. Pelekai, need I remind you of my previous profession?”

“You’re not with Child Services anymore, Cobra.  I can curse in my own home – Lilo brings home new words every week.”

Lilo just grinned and held up two thumbs up.

“None of this is real, right?  We’re gonna wake up and find ourselves back in New York, waiting for Hill to show up to the staff meeting, right?” Steve asked, leaning in – not as closely as before – to whisper in Buck’s ear.

Bucky snorted a laugh, clapped his hand over his mouth, and grinned behind his palm as they watched the chastened little alien follow Stitch out of the dome.

&&&

In the end, it was really anticlimactic.  The little alien climbed into the device that Jumba fiddled with, strapped himself in and gave Stitch a quick thumb’s up.  Then Jumba was moving in a flurry of movement, surprisingly fast and light on his feet, the device grew brighter and brighter until it seemed to leave burns on the back of their eyes, and suddenly it died away to spot-laden darkness.

Jumba read some readings – or maybe a recipe, it was impossible to tell in that alien script – and then he grunted a few times, made some more measurements – maybe added to his grocery list, who knew – and finally, he bellowed, “I am the best evil genius in the history of evil geniusing!”

“Jumba, you don’t do that anymore,” Lilo reminded him haughtily, and he deflated, nodding his head.

“You are right, little one.  I am the best genius in the history of geniusing!  So much more satisfying – I am better than everyone, not just the evils.  Experiment Two-Eighteen has been returned to full goodness.”

Inside the device, the little guy grinned from ear to ear, clapping his little hands together.

“Time to get him back to his ohana, then!” Lilo cried.  Stitch whooped it up, clamboring up and over the device to get Target out.

And Bucky felt a sudden sense of loss.  The op was done.

&&&

Target’s family was invited out to the Pelekai home to be reunited with Target, and then everyone retired to the beach for a luau and a special hula Lilo invented just for the evening.

“Behold the love story of Buckyoha and Obliviosa!” she cried in introduction.

Stitch leapt onto the stage wearing a grass skirt and a big white star stuck to its chest.  It started to dance as Steve “I never met a challenge I didn’t try to punch” plunked gamely away at his ukulele and Jumba patted the skins of a couple of bongo drums.  Every so often, Nani hit a triangle and giggled at David who blew her kisses from the blanket they’d been sharing earlier.  Pleakley warbled something until someone flicked a huge spoonful of poi into its eye.  No one knew who, but the aim was undeniably – almost preternaturally – accurate, like from a sniper or a sharpshooter or something … maybe a century-old ex-assassin.  Who knew?

There was really no rhyme or reason to the sounds, and they didn’t really sound all that coordinated, but it really didn’t matter.  Lilo was thoroughly in her element, narrating the tale of two stupidheads who were so in love with each other, they never noticed the other was in love with him.

Yeah, the parallels weren’t lost on Bucky, even if he thought it was all wishful thinking on Lilo’s heavily shipping part.

It didn’t get him out of jumping on the stage in his own grass skirt, the flames of the tiki torches reflecting warmly off the metal panels of his cybernetic arm.  And it sure didn’t prevent him from feeling awkwardly put on display, yet unreasonably warmed by the intensive of Steve’s gaze as he plunked tunelessly at the uk at the same time he muttered indecipherable lyrics.

_What a doofus. A glorious, broad-shouldered, big-hearted and dead sexy doofus._

So he danced with Stitch like Lilo had taught him, then raised her up in the air so she could pretend to fly as the Fairy of Love.  He winced as she smacked in him the face with her lightsaber (doubling as her magic wand), and he chuckled when she demanded he carry her around the entire audience, favoring each of them with slightly less violent smacks with the lightsaber. 

Steve the Easily Amused was already laughing so hard by the time they got to him, he’d given up any semblance of (severely lacking) musicality.  Lilo’s saber-smack sent him tumbling into the sand, clutching his ukulele and laughing it up uproariously. 

Bucky had to admit he was incredibly cute, laughing and plinking and being a very large, very hot, very sadly straight dork.

Bucky was gonna miss this.  Back in New York, they spent almost all their time together, and things were good.  But here, in Hawaii, he’d gotten a chance to see a side of Steve that he normally kept locked up.  Here, he was free, easy, his laughter genuine and heartfelt. 

He’d miss this. 

God, he wanted this all the time.  Him, Steve, laughter, both of them in one piece and nobody gunning for either of them.  Even with the bad music and the crack-headed hula, this was the best he’d ever hoped for.

Finally, they returned to the stage, Stitch, Lilo, and he finished the dance that Lilo had designed, and Lilo made some threatening and meandering speech about stupidheads getting their heads out of their stupid butts and doing something about love.  Then she bowed and stormed off the stage.

Target and his family expressed their confused thanks, and wandered off into the night.

Nani and David were whispering and cuddling on a blanket, and it was starting to look like either they needed to get a room, or everyone needed to exit stage left after blindfolding Lilo.  She simply stalked over to them and stared down at them with her pudgy hands on her hips for a moment before the most beautiful and happy smile bloomed across her face.  She sighed with contentment, then went over to start commanding Jumba and Pleakley.

Bucky managed to avoid the longing glances Pleakley sent his way. 

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do right then, and he was about to go check in with Steve the Musically Untalented when he saw him offer his services to break down the luau, just as Cobra Bubbles came up to Bucky and caught him by the metal arm. 

This guy was no slouch.  Most people steered clear of the arm, didn’t engage directly with it and risk having their face ripped off.

“You realize what this means, don’t you?”

“Op’s done, we’re on our way home,” Bucky replied, not even trying to mask the bitterness he suddenly felt.

“Op’s done, I can delay telling Nicky mission accomplished for a few days, maybe a week, provided you accomplish your other mission, Barnes.”

“What other mission?” Bucky asked.

“You really are a stupidhead,” Cobra replied, and nodded toward Stitch, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and looked like it might actually be frowning at Bucky.  And Bucky thought he heard it growl …

&&&

The little blue thing – the alien, Stitch – looked up at Bucky with an expression of infinite sadness and understanding.  He glanced toward where Steve worked with Jumba and Pleakley under Lilo’s direction.  Then it – he – put out a claw-tipped paw – hand? – to Bucky, looking up at his prosthetic arm meaningfully.  Slowly, Bucky put his metal hand into Stitch’s blue one, and the little creature tugged him along behind him and led him back into the house and up the chute to the room he shared with the little girl, Lilo.

“Look, I don’t think I should be up here –“ Bucky protested, but Stitch tapped a control and a ladder extruded from the ceiling.

“Eh,” Stitch ordered, hooking a thumb toward the ladder.  Sighing, Bucky hauled himself up until he found himself in the domed interior of a small spaceship, nothing obscuring his view of the cosmos – or the people gathered around the fire.  Stitch settled in beside him.

“I was made,” he said in an odd, inflected voice.  “I was made to be a weapon,” he explained touching his little fingers to Bucky’s arm.  “Like you, maybe.”

“What do you mean, you were made?”

“I was created in a lab.  Designed to be a destroyer.  I had no family, no parents.  No one to show me not to be bad.  I did bad things.”

“I –“

“You, too.  ‘The Winter Soldier’,” Stitch said softly.  At Bucky’s inquiring eyebrow, he added like he was explaining things to an idiot, “Internet.  So useful.”

That punched an unexpected laugh out of Bucky, and he looked at the little blue alien with a new form of respect.  This wasn’t some pet, some fluffy brainless creature.  Now that he looked more closely, he could see wisdom and pain in those enormous eyes.  “So I hear.  And yeah.  I did bad things.  Bad people …”

“Bad people made you.  Made you do bad things.  Like me.  Until I crashed here.  Until I found my family.  Small, and broken, and mine.  My _ohana_.”

“Ohana,” Bucky repeated, letting the word roll around in his mouth.

“Ohana means family,” Stitch explained solemnly.

“I know, but my family is all dead.  I outlived every one of them,” Bucky informed him sadly.

“Not all,” Stitch observed.  He craned his neck to point out Steve, giggling over the plinking noises he was making with the ukulele.  “ _He_ is your ohana.  Your family.  Small, and broken, and _yours_.  Your ohana.”

“Yeah, he’s just my best friend –“

“No.  Not just.  Best friend is everything.  But you are _more_.”

Oh, great.  The little blue alien shipped them, too.

Seriously, the universe was trying to tell him something when even little blue destructo aliens thought that he and Steve were a thing.

“Me, maybe.  Not Steve.”

“Steve.  Definitely.”

“He say somethin’ to you?”

He shook his head, his big ears flapping faintly.  “Face screams when you’re not looking.”

_Face screams._   Well, there was an image for you. 

And … _maybe_ … it was time for that talk Steve kept asking for.  Maybe.  If Bucky could finally screw up the courage to talk – and not screw everything to hell and back.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruh-roh! Now what?
> 
> Well, I hope you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter as you did for this one. I'm trying to write shorter chapters so I can update more quickly. Next chapter is going to be challenging, but I think it's also going to be rewarding. We're closing in on the end here, folks!
> 
> Whadya think?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back writing again, but I'm not going to post any kind of update schedule - I can't control when I have time to work thanks to my job. But ... I am writing again!
> 
> Yeah, I don't need another plot bunny. I don't need another story idea. But ... try arguing with Bucky. Just try.
> 
> Anyway ... comments would be cool. :)
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
> I've created a FAQ post on my Tumblr, to answer questions posed here, on IG, on Tumblr, etc. Check it out! And hey, feel free to follow me - I post lots of pictures of stuff, including bits and pieces from my Stucky Museum (my house). And cats. I am owned by cats.
> 
> Anyway, check out my [FAQ](http://debwalsh.tumblr.com/post/172159304647/debfaq-you-got-questions-i-got-answers) and bookmark it - I'll be updating it periodically with responses to questions about my fic, my art, my other fannish activities.


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